BX42f6 
L86- 


ifa 


|         No,    KJV  I 


(6  OF  ffi 

\  Si 

INQUIRY    ON    MISSIONS.  | 

AND  X 

THE   STATE  OF  RELIGION. 


LIBRAEY 

OF  THE 

Theological   Seminary, 

PRINCETON,    N.J. 

Case, 

Shelf. 

<CjC  .... 

1 be" 

Book, 

Ne,---W 

Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2011  with  funding  from 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


http://www.archive.org/details/lorettehistoryofOObour 


\ 


la  ©W  I  ©'Mo 


L  O  R  E  T  T  E. 


HISTORY  OF  LCUISE, 


BVUGflTER    OF   A 


CANADIAN    NUN 


EXHIBITING  THE 


INTERIOR 


OF 


FEMALE    CONVENTS 


Where  is  she,  whose  looks  were  love  and  gladness? 
— toye  and  gladness  I  no  longer  see  ! 
Sh<*  i«  g(  ne  ;  and  since  thai  hour  ot  sadness, 
Nature  seems  her  sepulchre  to  me. 

Montgomery. 


NEW  YORK  : 

PRINTED    AND    PUBLISHED    BY    WM.    A.    MERCEIN, 

Pearl  street,  corner  of  hurling- Slip. 

1833. 


Entered  by  Rowland  Bourne,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress  in 
the  year  1833,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court,  of  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


PSIHGSTGIT 


VTK." 


TO 


ARTHUR  TAPPAN: 


THIS  VOLUME  IS  INSCRIBED,  AS  A 


TRIBUTE    OF   RESPECT, 


FOR  HIS  CHRISTIAN  PHILANTHROPY  AND  ZEAL, 


ON    BEHALF    OF    THE 


"BLIND    AND   WRETCHED 


New  York,       > 
2d  March,  1833.  § 


INTRODUCTORY    LETTER, 


Pq  »  #  *  # 

Some  years  ago,  my  friend,  I  made  a  tour  in  Canada » 
and  was  introduced  to  a  gentleman  whose  extensive  know- 
!edge  of  the  local  scenery  of  that  Province,  and  of  the 
most  influential  persons  in  society,  greatly  facilitated  my  pur- 
suits, and  enlarged  my  information.  He  accompanied  me  to 
Montmorenci,  Lorette,  and  Lake  Charles.  On  our  return,  as 
we  sauntered  around  the  mill  at  the  Indian  village,  admiring 
the  picturesque  beauties  of  the  rapids  in  the  stream. — "  This 
place,  said  Diganu  ;  is  associated  with  very  affecting  oc- 
currences."   "  What  were  they  ?"  was  my  inquiry. 

He  paused,  as  if  perplexed  at  the  consciousness  of  an  im* 
prudeut  disclosure  ;  and  upon  my  repeating  the  question,  he 
merely  added,—"  The  tae  is  too  long  for  our  present  hear- 
ing, and  must  not  now  be  told." 

On  a  subsequent  visit  to  Quebec,  a  large  party  proposed 
the  same  excursion,  again  to  enjoy  a  sail  upon  the  Lakee 
Diganu  took  his  seat,  in  my  caleche.  We  haited  at  the  In- 
dian village  on  our  return ;  and  having  crossed  the  bridge/ 
we  arrived  at  the  spot  where  the  dell  is  viewed  in  all  its  strik* 
ing  varieties,  After  surveying  the  river  and  its  banks  with 
•  1 


VI 

much  emotion ;  my  aged  companion  remarked.—"  f  intima- 
ted to  you  two  years  ago,  the  intense  interest  which  I  feel 
in  beholding  this  scene." 

"  Yes— I  replied,  and  my  curiosity  was  awakened  by 
your  intimation.  Often  at  a  long  distance  have  I  remember- 
ed Lorette,  and  have  been  sadly  tantalized  with  your  re- 
serve." 

"  The  expression  of  my  feelings  then,  in  a  measure,  was 
involuntary — he  answered — but  the  causes  of  my  silence  will 
soon  cease  to  exist,  so  that  before  you  leave  Montreal,  you  shall 
possess  the  whole  story.  It  is  not  probable,  he  added— after 
our  separation  for  this  season,  that  we  shall  ever  meet  again 
on  earth.  My  age  precludes  the  possibility  of  my  long  con- 
tinuance in  this  world ;  and  as  you  do  not  expect  to  be  in 
Canada  until  a  distant  period  shall  have  arrived— I  will 
confide  to  you  the  circumstances  to  which  I  alluded  ;  with 
other  details  of  human  life,  which  I  have  met  with  during 
my  terrestrial  pilgrimage," 

Prior  to  my  departure ;  Diganu  presented  me  a  large  sealed 
packet.  "  This  parcel,  said  he,  contains  the  record  of  some 
past  events  and  characters.  It  is  not  to  be  opened  until  you 
have  been  apprised  of  my  decease.  After  that  event,  the 
narratives  are  subject  to  your  disposal." 

My  friend's  painful  anticipation  was  realized.  We  met  no 
more.  During  the  last  spring,  when  I  was  looking  forward 
to  the  pleasure  that  I  should  experience  in  a  renewal  of  social 
intercourse  with  the  veteran ;  after  the  lapse  of  a  longer  time 


Vli 

rhan  usual,  from  the  reception  of  his  final  epistolary  remem- 
brance ;  I  was  informed  of  his  peaceful  departure  from 
earth ;  and  of  the  testamentary  bequest  by  which  he  had 
manife  ted  his  regard  for  his  distant  acquaintance. 

The  packet  was  immediately  unfolded;  and  the  contents 
appeared  so  interesting  and  instructive,  that  it  was  decided, 
others  should  peru>e  the  delineations  it  comprised.  A  note 
was  int-jsed  which  thus  explained  the  Writer's  views  and 
designs. 

"You  will  perceive,  my  beloved  friend,  that  these  sheets 
have  been  written  at  \ery  distant  intervals.  They  contain 
notices  of  persons  and  things  characteristic  of  Canadian 
society.  The  names  of  all  the  parties  are  changed.  Al« 
though  the  actors  have  disappeared  and  the  curtain  has  drop* 
ped  upon  their  part  of  the  tragic  drama,  yet  as  the  narrator 
would  surely  be  known,  I  have  imposed  the  seal  of  secrecy, 
until  it  will  be  of  no  importance  to  me  what  use  is  made  of 
these  documents.  I  consign  the  manuscripts  to  you  now,  in 
preference  to  leaving  them  among  my  papers  ;  as  in  that 
case,  they  might  ne  er  have  been  seen  by  you  ;  for  it  is 
most  probable,  that  those  persons  who  must  necessarily  act 
under  my  last  will,  would  destroy  memorials  which  record 
facts,  that  no  man  in  Canada  would  dare  to  publish.  When 
you  peruse  hese  biographical  narratives,  you  will  be  re- 
minded of  Lorette  ;  and  of  your 

Faithful  and  affectionate 


DIGANU.' 


Cape  Diamond,       i 
2Qth  September,  1826.  § 


V11I 

The  manuscripts  thus  confided  to  my  perusal  were  mani- 
festly written  when  the  occurrences  were  vividly  impressed 
upon  the  memory.  Many  remarks  and  circumstances  have 
been  omitted.  They  betrayed  a  little  of  the  old  gentle- 
man's garrulity,  and  were  sometimes  irrelevant,  or  too  caustic 
and  severe.  With  the  exception  of  the  commencement,  the 
documents  have  been  transposed,  so  as  to  adapt  them  for  a 
continuous  history. 

No  stranger  can  visit  Canada  without  an  awakened  and 
deep  interest  and  an  acute  American  observer  of  life  and 
manners  naturally  inquires  into  the  causes  of  those  varied 
novelties  which  attract  his  notice.  The  peculiar  characteris- 
tics of  society  there  elude ya  slight  regard  ;  and  to  compre- 
hend the  state  of  religious  principles,  the  tone  of  domestic 
morals,  the  mental  vassalage,  and  the  profound  debasement 
of  the  habitans  of  that  Province,  numerous  difficulties  and 
obstructions  must  be  surmounted.  Patience,  with  persever- 
ance, is  necessary  to  delve  into  the  secrets  of  their  social 
and  political  condition. 

A  solicitude  to  understand  and  analyze  the  elements  oi 
Canadian  character  and  habits,  influenced  me  to  use  all  the 
means  to  obtain  accurate  and  diversified  information  upon 
these  melancholy  topics.  My  acquaintance  with  Diganu 
aided  my  design. 

The  circumstances  of  his  life  had  increased  his  tact  for 
surveying  those  around  him ;  and  his  whole  course  had  ren- 
dered it  necessary  for  him  to  watch  with  all  keenness,  the 
wayward  doings  of  his  associates  and  fellow-citizens.    Hi? 


IX 

aidtural  aptitude  of  discrimination  had  received  an  additional 
impulse  by  the  intelligence  which  he  had  imbibed,  and  as 
he  expressed  it—"  After  my  eyes  were  once  opened,  I  main- 
tained a  sleepless  watch  upon  the  proceedings  of  every  per- 
son with  whom  I  was  obliged  to  become  acquainted.  To 
that  most  uncomfortable  suspiciousness  of  all  mankind,  in 
which  for  some  years  1  lived,  I  am  indebted  for  the  tem- 
poral comfort  which  I  enjoy ;  and  I  passed  through  one-half  oi 
my  earthly  course,  before  I  fully  comprehended  the  meaning 
of  a  solitary  exercise  combined  with  the  charities  of  domes- 
tic life  ,•  except  in  connection  with  the  affair  of  Lorette  and 
Chretien  !  When  eating  my  solitary  meal,  or  roaming  alone 
around  the  city ;  often  have  I  vented  my  dreary  feelings  and 
morbid  disquietude  in  this  homely  couplet — 

Father,  mother,  sister,  brother,  friends- 
Wife  !— Ah  !  what  do  those  dear  names  intend7?" 

Diganu  however  had  survived  all  his  forced  and  unnatural 
misanthropy.  He  displayed  tenderness  and  affection  of  the 
highest  order,  commingled  with  a  charming  sincerity,  that 
rendered  communion  with  him  increasingly  delightful.  The 
arcana  of  Canadian  society  he  unfolded  in  its  minutest  fea- 
tures ;  and  however  perplexing  some  of  his  statements  ap- 
peared ;  he  affirmed  them  to  be  all  true,  and  vanquished 
incredulity  by  evidence  which  no  scepticism  could  deny. 

In  the  following  narrative,  some  of  the  contents  of  my  own 
port-folio  are  conjoined  with  Diganu's  details.  To  specify 
the  distinctions  is  superfluous.  All  the  circumstances  are  part 
of  those  annals  which  represent  man  as  he  is,  not  as  fiction 
describes  him. 

1* 


A  flattering  portrayer  of  Canada  delineates  the  habitant- 
upon  the  banks  of  the  river  Lawrence,  as  a  gallant,  higL 
principled,  enlightened,  and  dignified  race  of  mortals,  of 
superior  mental  elevation  and  moral  worth.  To  assume  this 
standard  of  any  nation,  en  masse,  is  over-stepping  the  boun- 
daries of  veracity,  and  that  it  is  totally  inapplicable  to  the 
Gallic  population  of  Lower  Canada,  is  known  to  every  in- 
dividual who  has  not  continued  in  a  dead  sleepy  while  mak- 
ing the  grand  northern  tour. 

The  ensuing  pages  depict  Canadian  personages,  not  in  the 
imaginative  embellishments  of  romance,  but  in  the  unadorned 
drapery  of  truth .  Who  of  Diganu's  actors  strutted  on  the 
theatre  of  life,  anterior  to  the  capture  of  Quebec  by  Wolfe's 
army,  and  who  are  of  a  subsequent  period,  there  is  no  clue 
to  discover.  His  descriptions  of  the  natural  scenery  are  very 
correct :  and  some  of  his  individual  portraits  and  narratives 
of  events,  I  have  frequently  heard  attested  as  matters  oi 
common  notoriety. 

This  explanation  contains  all  that  is  necessary  as  an  iutro 
ductory  notice  to  Lorette.  You,  my  friend,  I  trust,  will 
unite  in  judgment  with  the  opinion  of  several  clergymen 
who  examined  the  manuscript,  before  it  was  sent  to  press  ; 
that  the  perusal  of  this  narrative  will  enhance  the  love  oi 
freedom,  intelligence,  purity  and  truth ;  and  also  render  that 
triple  unholy  alliance,  ignorance,  error  and  corruption,  more 
odious  and  repugnant. 


LORETTE 


"Amid  the  crowd,  the  hum,  the  shock  of  men. 
To  hear,  to  see,  to  feel  and  to  possess, 
And  roam  along,  the  world's  tired  denizen, 
With  none  who  bless  us,  none  whom  we  can  bless 
Minions  of  splendor  shrinking  from  distress  f 
None  who  with  kindred  consciousness  endued. 
U  we  were  not,  would  seem  to  smile  the  less- 
Of  all  that  flatter'd,  follow'd,  sought  and  sued  ; 
This  is  to  be  alone — this,  this  is  solitude  !" 

On  the  twenty -first  day  of  December,  L?-  .  Digam 
and  Chretien  devoted  the  hours  to  a  circuitous  ride 
around  Quebec,  for  the  purpose  of  arranging  the  most 
agreeable  mode  to  dissipate  the  approaching  Christmas, 
hi  conformity  with  the  Canadian  customs.  This  is  a 
season  of  festivity,  in  which  every  species  of  sensual 
indulgence  is  admitted  without  restriction.  Considera 
ble  preparation  and  expense  and  all  possible  ingenuity 
are  impressed  into  the  service  to  render  the  close  of  the 
year  a  period  of  jollity,  a  carnaval ;  when  folly  and 
vice  rule  in  all  plenitude  of  sway.  High  Mass  having 
been  chanted  ;  it  seems,  that  the  people  think  the  Savioi 
is  honored  in  exact  pioportion  to  the  extent  of  their 
criminal  revelry. 


12 

in  these  practices  Diganu  had  been  nurtured.  All 
his  ideas  of  religion  were  compressed  within  a  point 
Like  every  other  orderly  peaceable  Canadian  devotee  ; 
his  creed  of  faith  comprised  but  two  articles, — "  I  must 
believe  only  what  the  priest  teaches  ;  and  when  I  die. 
I  shall  go  where  Le  Pretre,  the  Priest,  chooses  to  send 
me."  His  moral  code  was  equally  concise  and  edify 
ing—u  I  must  do  all  that  the  Priest  orders." 

Thus  the  revolving  years  repeated  the  same  unvary- 
ing routine.  Dancing,  gambling,  and  dissipation  for 
two  weeks  from  Christmas. — Gormandizing,  drinking 
and  frolic,  during  several  days  before  Lent — pretended 
fasting,  confession  to  Le  Pretre,  and  mumbling  over 
the  Ave  Mary,  until  Good  Friday — High  Mass  and 
every  species  of  youthful  gratification  in  full  indulgence 
at  Easter ;  with  all  the  other  annual  minor  repetitions 
of  the  same  farce  of  religious  buffoonery ;  the  same 
drivelling  comedy  of  low  life,  and  the  same  heinous 
tragedy  of  spiritual  crime. 

His  companion  on  the  ride  to  Charlebourg  and 
Lorette,  was  of  the  true  Canadian  orthodox  stamp  ;  a 
creature  reckless  of  the  past,  present  and  future  ;  who 
regularly  practised  all  the  exterior  mummery  which 
Le  Pretre  enjoined  ;  and  with  no  less  confidence  impli- 
citly trusted  his  soul  to  the  Priest's  safe  keeping  and 
clemency.  They  had  completed  all  their  arrange- 
ments, and  in  their  carriole,  with  characteristic  levity 
were  exulting  in  their  anticipated  delights  at  the  ensuing 
festival.    When  they  arrived  at  the  head  of  the  dell  of 


si 


13 

Lorette,  through  which  the  river  Charles  so  impetuously 
rushes,  their  attention  was  absorbed  by  an  object  which 
deeply  alarmed  them. 

It  was  a  moonlight  evening  ;  but  the  heavens  were 
partially  covered  with  those  deep  gray  flitting  clouds, 
which,  in  connection  with  the  luminous  effects  of  the 
snow,  give  to  the  northern  regions  that  peculiar  aspect 
which  the  Canadian  winter  nights  present;  and  which 
attach  to  objects  at  a  certain  distance,  a  shadowy  indis- 
tinctness, that  is  calculated  to  excite  very  undefinable 
emotions.  Whether  the  tone  of  their  feelings  had 
been  too  highly  exhilarated,  and  the  revulsion  so  na- 
tural in  such  cases  affected  them  is  immaterial — but 
Diganu  remarked  to  his  companion — "  what  is  that 
figure  standing  upon  yoi.der  rock  ?" 

h  Q,u  'est  que  c'est  I  What  is  it — replied  Chretien  ; 
Je  ne  sais  pas  ;  I  know  not :  but  it  looks  like  a  woman 
We  must  hurry  round  and  ascertain." 

As  they  rapidly  crossed  the  stream,  they  discerned 
that  it  was  a  female  figure.  Her  head  was  uncovered  ; 
her  hair  was  disordered  ;  she  had  none  of  the  clothing 
usual  for  that  inclement  season  ;  and  she  appeared  to 
be  wringing  her  hands,  beating  her  bosom,  and  agoni- 
zed in  the  extremity  of  despair.  Perceiving  her  perilous 
situation.  Diganu  and  Chretien  with  all  possible  ex- 
pedition hastened  to  the  spot ;  but  as  they  approached 
the  projection,  she  was  invisible.  Upon  examination 
they  found  a  young  woman  prostrate  against  a  jutting 


u 

tree,  wounded,  insensible,  with  half  her  body  resting 
on  a  large  branch ;  by  which,  it  was  evident,  that  she 
had  been  saved  from  being  precipitated  one  hundred 
feet  into  the  yawning  abyss.  They  rrecued  her  from 
her  imminently  dangerous  position,  collected  a  bonnet, 
with  some  other  articles  of  female  winter  dress,  and 
without  delay  transferred  her  to  the  attentions  of  the 
neighboring  squaws. 

Diganu  determined  to  remain  at  Lorette%)  await  the 
result,  while  Chretien  drove  to  Q,uebeq  to  procure 
medical  aid.  During  the  night,  she  continued  totally 
unconscious,  and  apparently  in  a  death  like  stupor. 
Not  a  memorial  was  found,  by  which  her  name,  place 
of  abode, or  connections  could  be  ascertained ;  and  it  was 
not  until  the  morning,  when  the  surgeon  arrived  and 
bled  hei\  that  she  exhibited  any  symptoms  of  energy. 
Her  wounds  were  pronounced  to  be  slight,  but  as  she 
appeared  to  be  in  a  high  fever,  it  was  indispensable 
that  she  should  remain  where  she  had  been  first  con- 
veyed. Diganu  and  his  Companion  engaged  to  pro- 
vide all  suitable  conveniencies  ;  and  to  devote  the  days 
of  the  festival  in  assisting  to  restore  their  patient. 

How  changed  the  scene !  The  two  thoughtless 
children  of  vanity  sacrificed  all  their  fancied  enjoyments 
to  watch  a  stranger,  whom  they  had  delivered  from 
destruction,  or  to  a  daily  ride  into  Quebec  for  medical 
direction  and  the  necessaries  essential  for  their  protegee 
The  close  of  the  holidays  approached  ;  and  their  sister, 
as  the  youths  familiarly  denominated  her,  for  she  was 
evidently  of  about  their  own  age,  still  remained  in  a 


15 

peculiarly  delicate  condition.  To  leave  her  was  una- 
voidable; they  therefore  confided  her  to  the  care  of  two 
squaws.  Frequently  dil  ihey  visit  her  as  she  became 
convalescent ;  and  when  permitted  by  the  surgeon,  they 
conducted  her  to  the  city,  and  placed  her  where  she 
could  be  duly  attended  and  watched, 

In  reference  to  every  thing  personal,  she  maintained 
the  most  cautious  reserve.  All  their  ingenuity,  and 
Diganu  betrayed  a  peculiar  interest  in  her  welfare,  was 
ineffectual  to  elicit  the  least  glimpse  of  her  history. 
There  was  a  cause  however  for  the  deep  sympathy 
which  Diganu  especially  manifested  towards  her. 
When  she  was  first  carried  to  the  Indian  cottage  ;  and 
her  head  was  washed  to  remove  the  blood  which  was 
upon  her  face  and  temples  ;  at  the  top  of  her  forehead^ 
was  a  small  punctured  cross,  with  the  letter  M  perfectly 
invisible  as  the  hair  was  usually  worn;  and  of  course, 
known  only  to  herself  and  to  the  person  who  im- 
printed it. 

Diganu,  according  to  a  delusive  infatuation  among 
^ome  of  his  countrymen,  had  a  place  on  his  crown 
shaved,  and  on  this  bald  spot  was  also  a  small  cross, 
marked  mi  h  the  letter  D.  W  hen  the  squaws  called  the 
young  men  to  look  at  the  cross  concealed  by  her  hair, 
thereby  to  ascertain  the  identity  of  her  whom  they  had 
saved  from  death.  Diganu  recollected  what  he  had 
been  told  of  his  own  head,  and  desired  Chretien  toex= 
amine  it.  The  smiilaiit)  of  the  figures  was  so  great 
that  his  friend  declared  ;  they  must  have  been  impres» 


.16 

seel  by  the  same  person.  Such  a  coincidence  at  any  other 
period  would  have  been  unnoticed — but  in  the  then 
state  of  Diganu's  excited  feelings,  he  considered  it  as 
almost  miraculous  ;  and  he  therefore  became  addition- 
ally interested  in  the  daughter  of  sorrow,  who  had  thus 
been  so  fortuitously  cast  upon  his  protection.  All  the 
parties  present,  the  Squaws,  the  Indians  and  Chretien, 
being  then  equally  superstitious,  their  varied  remarks 
•only  tended  to  increase  the  impression  upon  his  mind  ; 
until  he  resolved  to  make  any  sacrifice  for  her  comfort 
and  safety. 

The  two  friends  at  that  period  Were  commencing 
life  on  their  own  basis.  Both  had  just  previously  en- 
tered upon  a  small  business  ;  and  they  therefore  agreed 
as  soon  as  the  patient  had  fully  recovered,  to  make  her 
an  offer  to  superintend  their  little  bachelor's  establish- 
ment. She  was  to  be  considered  in  all  points  as  then 
sister  ;  and  to  receive  all  the  attentions  and  endear- 
ments of  that  tender  relation.  But  to  this  proposition, 
Louise,  aa  she  declared  her  name,  stedfastly  objected. 
She  seemed  to  have  an  unspeakable  aversion  to  be  the 
subject  of  a  stranger's  scrutiny.  Her  dislike  was  finally 
vanquished. 

Diganu  and  Chretien,  when  she  felt  fully  restored, 
were  discussing  with  Louise,  her  fut me  prospects.  This 
topic,  during  her  nulady,  had  never  engaged  her  atten- 
tion. When  the  subject  was  thus  distinctly  presented 
to  her  consideration,  she  instantly  realized  all  her  de- 
pendent  and  friendless  condition,     fcjhe  was  deeply 


tip 

itgitaced.  Her  friends  assured  her,  that  their  solicitude 
was  only  for  her  comfort ;  and  that  they  would  consent 
to  any  arrangement  which  she  would  propose,  provided 
that  it  was  beneficial  to  herself. 

In  the  course  of  the  interview,  she  acknowledged 
that  she  was  qualified  in  various  ways,  to  support  her 
self;  but  she  palpitated  with  tremor,  whenever  any 
plan  was  suggested,  through  which  she  could  possibly 
be  recognised,  or  even  known  to  any  other  persons  ; 
and  expressed  her  hope  that  the  attending  Surgeon  had 
not  seen  her  forehead.  This  allusion  reminded  Diganu 
and  Chretien  of  the  cross ;  and  they  informed  her  of 
the  discovery ;  but  also  assured  her,  that  the  nurses 
only,  except  themselves,  were  acquainted  with  it:  and 
that  the  squaw*  merely  crossed  themselves,  when  they 
saw  what  they  thought  the  mysteriously  good  sign  upon 
her  head. 

"I  propose — said  Chretien — that  we  inspect  that- 
cross  again.  Your  peculiar  situation  may  have  deceiv 
ed  me  ;  but  if  my  opinion  was  then  correct ;  I  think  I 
■can  point  you  to  a  sign  not  less  remarkable." 

After  some  hesitation ;  Louise  consented  ;  and  tht 
cross  was  still  visible  in  all  its  distinctness.  "  What  is 
the  design  of  this  letter  M?"  inquired  Diganu. 

"  I  know  not — she  faintly  replied  with  a  blush — no 
person  has  seen  it  before  yourselves,  since  I  first  discov- 
ered it.     The  only  woman,  who  I  can  think,  might 

2 


18 

have  explained  the  mystery,  either  did  not  know 
which  I  believe  most  probable3  or  else  she  considered 
me  too  young  to  be  intrusted  with  the  secret." 

11  Eh  bien  !   well ;    Diganu — said   Chretien — Vbtis 
avez  raison  ;  you  are  right." 

"  What  do  you  mean'?"  asked  the  anxious  Louise 
Chretien  then  requested  her  to  examine  the  shorn  spot 
on  Diganu's  head  :  but  she  had  no  sooner  seen  the 
talismanic  mark,  than  she  sunk  into  her  chair  almost 
fainting. 

"When  she  was  restored  ;  "Diganu — said  Louise- 
you  have  already  told  me  that  from  a  certain  sympa 
thy  for  which  you  cannot  account,  you  feel  peculiarly 
interested  for  my  welfare.  This  remarkable  cross 
3tamped  upon  both  of  us  justifies  the  confidence  thai 
I  am  about,  to  place  in  you.  You  will  permit  me  to 
maintain  all  the  secrecy  I  please.  I  shall  neither  visit 
nor  receive  visiters  ;  nor  shall  I  be  seen  by  any  ei 
your  associates.  Upon  these  conditions,  I  will  consent 
to  perform  the  menial  duties  of  your  house." 

This  arrangement  was  objected  to  by  Chretien, 
u  You  have  not  been  used  to  kitchen  business.  Your 
refined  manners — said  he — your  delicate  frame  ;  your 
soft  and  white  hands  ;  and  your  excellent  understand- 
ing, with  your  other  capacities,  prove  :  that  you  have 
not  been  and  are  not  qualified  to  be  a  household 
drudge." 


19 

■:i  I  have  stated — replied  Louise — the  only  terms 
upon  which  I  will  consent  to  place  myself  under  your 
protection." 

The  next  evening-  was  designated  for  her  removal. 
When  Diganu  and  Chretien  were  conversing  over  this 
scheme;  they  both  agreed,  that  no  other  mode  was 
practicable  to  preserve  Louise  from  misery.  The  gloom 
upon  her  mind  was  very  oppressive.  Her  timidity  of 
being  noticed  was  unconquerable ;  at  the  same  time 
her  resolution  was  so  undaunted,  that  every  thing  was 
to  be  dreadedj  in  case  she  should  be  exposed  to  the  same 
trial  which  had  already  jeoparded  her  life.  Yet,  she 
had  never  betrayed,  by  any  intimation,  that  her  near 
approach  to  death  at  Lorette  was  voluntary  ;  and  the 
only  emotion  that  she  exhibited  was,  when  any  inquiry 
was  made  into  her  prior  history.  Her  friends  therefore 
resolved,  that  they  would  accept  of  her  services,  retain 
her  secret  in  ail  possible  privacy  ;  and  permit  her  to  live 
as  secluded  and  unknown  as  she  pleased. 

Far  other  ideas  occupied  the  mind  of  Louise,  during 
the  interval  prior  to  her  actual  residence  with  her  de- 
liverers. Their  knowledge  of  her  awful  situation  at 
Lorette;  their  acquaintance  with  the  mysterious  cross  on 
her  forehead  ;  the  similar  mark  on  Diganu's  head  ;  the 
risk  of  her  being  discovered  ;  their  doltish  subservience 
to  their  Priest,  notwithstanding  their  better  sense  and 
principles,  combined  with  their  gay  and  frivolous  tem- 
pers; and  her  own  hatred  and  contempt  of  all  the 
mummery  of  their  superstitions,  embarrassed  her  judg- 


20 

men! ;  and  had  a  certain  escape  been  practicable,  she 
undoubtedly  would  have  attempted  it  To  live  as  she 
had  done  when  sick  was  impossible.  It  appeared  to 
her  therefore,  preferable  to  rely  upon  the  promises  of 
two  open  hearted  young  men  ;  all  whose  actions,  kind 
ness  and  intercourse  had  been  so  benevolent  and  frater- 
nally delicate,  than  to  expose  herself  to  the  terrifying 
dangers  from  which  she  had  so  recently  and  marvel 
lously  escaped.  Under  the  concealment  of  darkness, 
she  left  her  apartment  unobserved,  and  was  intro 
duced  to  her  new  habitation. 

From  the  commencement  of  her  abode  with  hex 
friends,  Louise  uniformly  refused  to  eat  with  them  ; 
and  never  admitted  herself  to  be  addressed  but  as  their 
inferior  and  servant.  At  length,  however,  they  noticed 
ihat  she  used  no  mass  book  ;  and  that  she  kept  no 
crucifix ;  no  images  ;  no  holy  water ;  no  beads ;  and  no 
rosary.  These  deceitful  baubles  had  been  duly  pro 
vided  for  her  chamber,  but  they  were  all  removed  ;  and 
the  old  cross  which  hung  over  the  kitchen  fire-place 
had  disappeared ,  and  no  vestige  of  popery  remained, 
It  was  determined  by  her  protectors  to  explore,  this 
mystery. 

Diganu,  being  in  the  kitchen,  inquired  of  Louise  ■ 
4  What  has  become  of  the  sacred  cross  which  used  to 
adorn  the  mantle  peice  ?"  "You  agreed" — replied  the 
trembling  maiden—"  to  let  me  live  according  to  my 
own  way." 


21 

"  We  did  so— said  Diganu — but  then  we  took  it  for 
granted  that  you  belonged  to  the  Holy  Roman  Church/ 

"  You  should  have  asked  me  that  at  first" — Louise 
meekly  answered — "and  my  gratitude  and  candor 
would  have  induced  me  to  confess  that  I  belong  to  no 
visible  Church." 

"  This  justifies  exactly  what  Chretien  and  I  have 
thought — rejoined  Diganu — we  put  into  your  sleeping 
apartment,  the  Mass  book,  the  true  image  of  the  Bless- 
ed Virgin,  and  the  Holy  Crucifix  which  all  good  Cath- 
olics worship.  We  also  procured  some  holy  water 
bought  from  the  priest  himself  as  a  great  favor  ;  and  a 
rosary  made  by  the  Nuns  and  blessed  by  the  Bishop  ; 
and  they  are  all  gone.  Mere  de  Dieu !  priez  pour 
nous.  Mother  of  God,  pray  for  us.  Ah  !  Louise :  do 
you  never  use  these  sacred  things  7  n 

"  No — she  replied  without  hesitation — "I  burnt  the 
Mass-book,  the  Images  and  the  rosary.  The  water  T 
cast  into  the  street,  and  if  you  knew  as  much  as  I  do  of 
the  Priests  and  their  pretended  religion  :  you  would  do 
fhe  same." 

In  deep  thought,  Diganu  paused ;  but  at  length 
remarked.  "  I  do  not  comprehend  "how  we  shall  man- 
age this  affair." 

"Very  easily — instantly  subjoined  Louise— you  need 

not  know  any  thins:  of  my  principles.  With  my  private 

2* 


22 

opinions,  whether  right  or  wrong  ;  as  they  will  be  harm 
less  to  you  and  Chretien,  you  have  no  concern.  You 
provided  for  me  a  number  of  articles  which  I  deera;. 
useless  ;  and  the  disposal  of  them  was  my  own  af- 
fair." "  But — inquired  Diganu— suppose  I  am  asked 
about  this  matter  at  confession  :  what  shall  I  answer  f 

"  Tell  the  Priest,  his  articles  were  all  safe  the  las? 
time  you  saw  them — added  Louise — and  say  no  more 
It  is  enough  for  you  to  confess  your  own  sins  ;  and  let 
me  beg  you  not  to  assume  my  transgressions.  Be 
sides,  you  promised  not  to  let  it  be  known,  if  possible 
to  the  priest;  that  you  had  any  young  woman  in  your 
house." 

•J I  suppose  then — remarked  Diganu — you  will  no' 
attend  confession,  do  penance,  and  get  absolution  from 
he  Priest?'*'" 

"  Never — said  the  weeping  girl,  with  manifest  trepi 
dation — I  will  never  go  to  the  confessional  unless  I  am 
dragged  there.  The  ceremony  is  a  farce  and  delusion 
and  it  is  connected  with  the  greatest  wickedness." 

Diganu  crossed  himself,  and  half  shuddered.  He 
was  sadly  bewildered.  This  was  a  direct  attack  made 
by  a  female  for  whom  he  felt  an  indescribable  inter 
est,  upon  all  his  strongest  prejudices.  In  truth  he 
seriously  believed  no  more  of  the  matter  than  Louise  ; 
because  he  had  never  seriously  reflected  at  all  upon  the 
subject.     According  to  his   theology,  it   was  a   very 


23 

comfortable  thing  to  pass  away  life  in  a  frolic ;  to  pajr 
the  Pretre  his  various  claims  at  the  stated  festivals  ae 
long  as  he  lived  ;  and  when  he  died,  to  give  him  the 
number  of  louis  d'ors  necessary  to  put  him  into  Hea- 
ven. He  had  never  inquired  whether  either  of  these 
principles  or  practices  was  rational  or  proper  or  true 
or  religious.  The  Pretre  announced  and  enjoined  it, 
All  his  associates  believed  the  certainty  and  justice  of 
these  notions.  Thus  the  Cure  promised  ;  thus  he  ad- 
mitted and  conformed  without  scruple ;  and  a  suspicion 
had  never  entered  his  mind,  that  throughout  this  whole 
process,  the  Pretre  might  be  leading  him  into  the  dun- 
geon of  eternal  despair. 

It  was  a  merciful  interposition  of  Divine  Providence, 
that  these  "  heretical "  sentiments  were  first  uttered  in 
Diganu's  hearing,  by  the  only  female  for  whom  he  had 
ever  felt  any  true  respect  or  attachment.  Yet  he  could 
not  define  the  nature  of  his  regard  for  the  mysterious 
being  who,  in  such  extraordinary  circumstances,  had 
been  placed  under  his  care.  There  was  such  an  art- 
less sincerity  and  candor,  such  undissembled  delicacy, 
such  infantile  simplicity,  and  yet  such  a  lady- like  de- 
meanor, and  such  a  sisterly  confidence  in  him,  ever 
displayed  by  Louise  in  ail  her  actions,  that  her  influence 
unintentionally  became  irresistible.  Chretien  perceiv- 
ed the  fact,  and  rejoiced.  It  was  a  counterbalance  to 
the  buoyancy  of  Diganu's  gay  and  sanguine  tempera- 
ment. But  when  the  "heretical"  propensities  of  their 
inmate  were  decidedly  avowed  by  her ;  the  friends 
became  wondrously  embarrassed. 


24 

At  that  period,  the  idea  of  a  native  Canadian's  re* 
uunciation  of  the  Roman  faith,  was  not  only  a  novelty 
hut  a  monster.     From  their  diffeient  sensations  in  re 
lerence  to  Louise  ;  Chretien,  although  kind  and  affec 
tionate  as  a  brother,  was  not  so  easily  impressed  as 
Diganu  ;  and  "  it  is  questionable,  whether  sound  poli- 
cy— as  Chretien  remarked—  if  not  our  mutual  safety 
iloes.not  require,  that  Louise  should  be  persuaded,  at 
least,  to  attend  the  Mass." 

Several  months  however  had  passed  away  prior  tc 
ihese  troublesome  discoveries ;  and  when  they  were 
fully  made  ;  the  uninformed  opinions,  with  the  tender 
solicitudes  of  the  two  young  men,  combined  with  the 
steadfast  opposition  of  Louise  to  the  faith  and  ceremo- 
nies to  which  they  professed  to  adhere,  produced  in  them 
great  vacillation.  During  that  whole  period,  Diganu's 
affection  assumed  a  more  decisive  character;  and  hav- 
ing obtained  Chretien's  approbation,  he  resolved  to 
terminate  all  future  doubt  and  alarm,  by  proposing  to 
her  acceptance  the  matrimonial  relation. 

The  Surgeon  whom  Chretien  had  engaged  to  at 
tend  at  Lorette,  about  this  time,  and  prior  to  the  direct 
proffer  of  marriage,  visited  Diganu ;  and  requested  in- 
formation respecting  the  young  woman  to  whom  he 
had  been  called  to  afford  medical  aid  at  the  Indian 
village ;  as  the  squaws  had  communicated  to  one  of 
?he  Pieties,  the  event  which  had  occurred  during  the 
previous  winter,  and  he  was  directed  to  ascertain  the 
fate  of  the  unfortunate  girl.  Diganu  evaded  the  sub 
ject  by  a  reference  to  Chretien. 


25 

That  evening  was  devoted  to  an  investigation  of  the 
causes  of  this  suspicious  research— but  as  neither 
Diganu  nor  Chretien  could  possibly  divine  any  plausi- 
ble reason  for  the  Surgeon's  mysterious  inquiry,  after 
so  long  an  interval  had  elapsed  ;  Louise  was  apprized 
of  the  fact. 

"  Then  I  am  lost — she  remarked  in  agony — the 
villains  will  discover  me.  They  will  take  me  from 
vouj  and  I  shall  be  miserable." 

"No  authority  upou  earth  shall  separate  us — answer 
ed  Diganu  vehemently — if  you  will  put  yourself  within 
my  power  to  protect  you,  by  becoming  my  wife." 

"  Wife  ! — retorted  Louise  in  extreme  unfeigned  sur 
prise — I  have  loved  you  as  a  sister.  Wife  ! — would 
you  marry  misery  ? — would  you  marry  a  friendless, 
outcast,  wretched  orphan  ?"  She  was  so  overpowered, 
that  her  conflicting  emotions  only  found  relief  in  a 
gush  of  tears. 

As  soon  as  she  was  in  a  measure  becalmed,  Diganu 
answered  with  affectionate  sensibility. — "  I  care  not 
who  you  are,  or  what  you  are.  For  nearly  a  year, 
you  have  been  all  to  me ;  and  Chretien  knows,  that 
you  are  the  constant  blessing  of  our  lives." 

Here  Chretien  interposed™"  When  Diganu  confided 
his  intention  to  me,  I  expressed  to  him — and  here  he 
'ook  their  right  hands  and  joined  them  within  his  owr; 


2Q 

— as  I  now  do  to  you  both,  my  most  cordial  approba 
lion — and   crossing  himself,   he  added — Sainte  Mere 
de   Dieu  !  ayez  pitie  de  nous:     Holy  mother  of  God. 
have  mercy  upon  us!" 

Louise  blushed;  trembled;  hesitated;  but  at  length 
replied — "if  no  other  means  can  be  devised  to  preserve 
me  from  my  persecutors  and  dangers,  1  will  place  my 
future  comfort  in  your  hands." 

This  preliminary  being  satisfactorily  adjusted  ;  it 
now  became  essential  to  prepare  Chretien  tor  the  pro- 
posed interview  with  the  Surgeon.  Louise  imparted 
no  additional  information.  It  was  her  unalterable  pur- 
pose, never  more  to  return  whence  she  had  escaped  : 
and  rather  thaw  experience  this  cala  ity- — "if  no  other 
mode  exists  to  avert  the  horrors  I  anticipate— she 
said,  and  her  convulsed  movements  proved  them  to  be  no 
fiction  —I  would  fly  to  the  end  of  the  earth  and  suffer 
every  possible  torture;  trusting  in  the  mercy  of  that 
God  who  already  has  permitted  you  once  to  deliver  me 
from  going  down  to  the  pit,  and  by  who<e  blessing 
upon  the  reading  of  his  word — for  she  had  procured  a 
Bible,  although  her  friends  understood  not  her  meaning 
—I  begin  to  enjoy  some  hope  of  his  pardoning  love/ 

It  was  finally  resolved,  that  her  place  of  abode  should 
be  concealed,  and  all  acknowledgment  of  any  present 
acquaintance  with  her  be  eluded,  by  a  reference  to  tht 
person  with  whom  she  stopped  after  her  arrival  in 
Quebec  from  Lorette.     So  well  contrived  had  been  hei 


27 

sacvet  departure,  that  when  Diganu  and  Chretien  called 
to  inquire  for  Louise,  the  mistress  expressed  great  alarm 
at  her  absence,  and  declared  her  total  ignorance  of  the 
time  and  manner  of  her  disappearance.  To  that 
nurse  it  was  agreed  therefore,  that  Chretien  should  di- 
rect the  Surgeon  ;  and  it  was  hoped,  that  her  reply  to 
•he  call  would  preclude  all  future  inquiry. 

The  plot  partially  succeeded  ;  for  when  Diganu  and 
the  Surgeon  applied  to  the  nurse  with  whom  she  had 
lodged,  the  woman  unhesitatingly  affirmed ;  "  that 
Louise  had  escaped  in  a  dark  night,  that  the  young 
?nen  had  often  made  inquiries  for  her,  and  that  she 
could  never  discover  any  trace  of  the  girl  since  that 
day." 

But  who  can  fathom  the  depths  of  a  Jesuit  ?  Who 
:an  comprehend  all  his  artifices,  malignity,  and  wiles? 
How  can  a  Roman  withstand  the  usurped  supremacy 
of  his  Priest  ? — A  marked  difference  was  manifest  in 
Diganu's  character;  he  had  lost  his  thoughtless  hilarity, 
and  was  distinguished  for  his  gravity,  attention  to  busi- 
ness, and  indifference  to  his  former  associates.  This 
change  was  imputed  by  the  ordinary  citizens  to  his 
love  of  money  ;  but  the  crafty  Priests  suspected  some 
other  motive,  and  instantly  resolved  to  penetrate  the 
secret. 

Knowing  that  theseasons  of  Canadian  festive  amuse 
nent  and  of  social  merriment  are  the  periods  when 
men,  and  especially  youth  are  most  unguarded  :  they 


28 

hoped,  during  the  Christmas  carnaval  to  ensnare  hku< 
but  Diganu  was  also  on  the  watch.  Louise  had  been 
able  to  communicate  to  him  a  very  small  portion  only 
of  evangelical  wisdom — yet  it  had  induced  him  primari- 
ly to  doubt,  then  to  disbelieve,  and  finally  to  reject  all 
the  vicious  catalogue  of  papal  traditions  ;  although  he 
continued  to  exhibit  an  exterior  respect  for  the  ceremo- 
nial mummery  of  the  Mass. 

The  Priests  speedily  marked  him  as  a  person  "  sus- 
pected  of  heretical  pravity,"  and  combined  to  entrap 
him.     As  a  tool  for  their  conspiracy,  they  employed  the 
mercenary  Surgeon  ;  and  a  strict  inspection  was  con 
stantly  maintained  upon  all  Diganu's  movements. 

On  New  Year's  day,  the  two  friends  resolved  to 
ride  to  Lorette,  and  there  to  retrace  the  events  of  the 
former  festival.  While  absent  on  their  excursion,, 
the  Surgeon  called,  under  the  pretext  of  presenting 
the  customary  salutation,  and  saw  Louise,  with- 
out recognising  her  in  the  specious  disguise,  or  rath 
er  incongruous  dress  which  she  always  wore  to  elude 
the  possibility  of  being  identified.  But  the  fact,  that 
there  was  a  servant  girl  living  with  Diganu  and  Chre 
tien  impelled  additional  inquiry,  and  it  was  determined 
by  the  Priests  to  pursue  the  search. 

Not  long  after,  the  Chaplain  of  the  Hospital  Nun 
nery  induced  the  woman  with  whom  Louise  had 
boarded  after  her  removal  from  Lorette  to  Quebec,  to 
enter  Diganu's  apartments  during  his  absence  :  but  so 


29 

completely  altered  was  Louise  by  her  uncouth  and  low 
\y  dress  and  her  assumed  ignorance  and  rusticity,  that 
the  Nurse  knew  her  not ;  and  in  very  peremptory  terms 
reported  to  her  P  iest — "there  is  not  the  smallest  resem 
blance  in  any  respect  between  the  sweet  young  Lady 
who  was  in  ray  house,  and  the  ugly  paysanne  whom 
I  saw  there.r 

Louise  instantly  perceived  that  the  object  was  mere 
fy  to  ascertain  the  reality  of  her  residence  with  her 
friends  ;  and  thus  was  induced  to  consent  without 
further  hesitancy,  to  the  nuptial  union  proposed  bj 
Diganu.  The  Lent  had  partly  elapsed,  and  the  day 
of  the  marriage  ceremony  was  fixed  about  the  earliest 
period  allowed  by  the  Romish  canons  ;  for  then  there 
was  no  Protestant  Minister  in  Quebec. 

At  this  juncture,  a  strange  Priest  entered  the  house, 
and  his  remarkable  appearance  not  only  attracted 
Diganu's  attention,  but  impressed  him  with  deep  fear 
fulness.  He  detailed,  with  all  minute  exactness,  the 
disappearance  of  a  young  novice  from  the  care  of  the 
Nuns  at  Point  aux  Trembles  ;  stated,  that  she  had 
been  traced  to  the  Indian  village  of  Lorette  ;  that  it 
was  supposed,  she  had  there  been  robbed  and  otherwise 
ill  treated ;  that  she  had  subsequently  been  seen  in 
Quebec  ;  and  that  the  Surgeon,  who  had  been  sent 
for,  to  visit  her,  had  affirmed,  that  Diganu  and  another 
young  man  named  Chretien  who  dwelt  together,  had 
been  guilty  of  enticing  her  away  from  the  protection 
if  the  Religieuses  :  and  that  having  inflicted  upon  he; 
3 


30 

ihe  most  atrocious  injuries,  they  had  discarded  her,  and 
left  her  to  perish,  or  had  secretly  murdered  their  victim 

While,' with  all  menacing  indignation,  he  was  ve- 
hemently unfolding  this  dread  tale,  and  intermingling 
the  utmost  Jesuitical  finesse  to  insnare  Diganu,  Chretien 
entered.  They  both  denied  the  application  of  the  nai 
rative,  in  whole  and  in  part.  By  prior  concert,  with- 
out doubt,  the  surgeon  also  appeared  ;  and  confirmed 
that  part  of  the  statement,  in  reference  to  his  being 
desired  by  Chretien  to  visit  a  young  female  who  was 
discovered  at  Lorette  wounded,  and  in  a  very  distressful 
condition.  The  surgeon  also  added — "  the  only  way 
by  which  she  can  be  identified,  as  the  Squaws  infor- 
med me,  is  by  a  small  cross  immediately  at  the  top  of 
her  forehead."  At  the  mention  of  this  particular  mark, 
the  Pretre  fixed  upon  Diganu  one  of  those  withering 
portentous  looks  which  a  Jesuit  or  a  Dominican  only 
can  infuse  into  the  human  countenance.  The  attempt 
was  vain  ;  for  it  excited  no  alarm  ;  and  from  conscious 
innocence,  the  two  friends  betrayed  not  the  least 
amotion, 

"  Ah  ! — said  the  Pretre— I  perceive  that  you  are  har- 
dened in  your  iniquity,  and  hope , to  escape  the  censures 
of  the  Church,  and  the  arm  of  Justice  ;  but  to  let  you 
know  that  I  am  acquainted  with  all  your  secrets — and 
he  uttered  a  tremendous  oatn — remember  the  cross  on 
thy  own  head  :  thou  disguised  heretic  !" — He  arose, 
and  without  another  word,  accompanied  by  the  surgeon, 
instantly  departed. 


31 

There  was  a  cold-blooded,  malignant  apathy  in  the 
voice  and  countenance  of  the  Priest,  the  dulling  effects 
of  which,  all  their  efforts  to  resume  fortitude  could  not 
repel.  The  painful  sensations  which  they  realized, 
were  forcibly  aggravated  by  Louise,  who  entered  soon 
after  the  disappearance  of  the  Priest,  and  whose  fea- 
tures wofuily  displayed  all  the  anguish  which  lacerated 
her  soul. 

"  I  am  lost — I  am  lost — at  length,  she  said,  in  a  fear- 
ful tone — it  is  all  ended — nothing  can  save  me." 

Every  attempt  to  soothe  her  was  vain  ;  and  the  only 
thing  which  in  any  measure  appeared  to  assure  her, 
was  the  reiterated  promise  by  Chretien,  that  death  or 
it  resistible  lawless  violence  alone  should  separate  her 
from  Diganu.  She  requested  again  to  examine  the 
cross  to  which  the  Priest  adverted,  and  having  beheld 
it  for  a  moment,  she  recoiled  with  terror — "  Rely  upon  it, 
Diganu — she  uttered,  apparently  almost  suffocated — 
we  shall  never  be  united." 

Chretien  again  attempted  to  appease  her  heart-rend 
iiig  distress  and  his  friend's  agony,  with  this  consola- 
tion.— "Fear  not — said  he — force  only  shall  derange 
the  plans  to  which  you  have  consented." 

Diganu  also  avowed  his  unalterable  resolution  to 
sacrifice  every  thing  in  her  defence,  provided  Louise 
would  confide  to  him  the  cause  of  her  sorrows  and 
anxieties.     As  it  had  been  arranged  that  they  should 


32 

be  married  at  Lorette,  she  promised,  on  the  last  niglif 
prior  to  their  union,  should  it  occur,  to  divulge  to  him 
and  to  Chretien  her  previous  history. 

When  Chretien  went  to  Lorette  to  acquaint  the 
Priest  of  the  Indian  village  of  his  desired  attendance 
to  perform  the  ceremony,  and  when  Diganu's  name 
was  mentioned  as  the  bridegroom  ;  a  ghastly  expres- 
sive leer  filled  the  face  of  the  Priest,  which  to  the  youth 
portended  no  good  to  his  friends.  Upon  his  return  to 
Quebec,  he  therefore  strongly  remonstrated  against  the 
place,  the  time,  and  the  Priest;  and  dissuaded  them 
from  waiting  until  that  day,  and  much  more  from 
proceeding  to  Lorette,  for  the  solemnization  of  then 
nuptials.  Louise  however  determined  those  points,  by 
remarking — "  If  we  are  to  be  united,  the  time,  place 
or  Priest  makes  no  difference.  Such  is  the  intimate 
connection  and  secret  understanding  among  them  ail  ; 
that  if  any  deed  of  darkness,  which  I  have  too  much 
reason  to  dread,  is  to  be  performed  ;  I  should  prefer 
Lorette  to  any  other  spot  for  the  execution  of  their 
wicked  purposes.  To  escape  out  of  the  Province  is 
impossible.  It  is  therefore  of  no  importance  ;  for  if 
Divine  Providence  interposes  on  my  behalf,  it  will  be 
every  where ;  and  if  1  am  to  be  sacrificed,  the  Lord's 
will  be  done." 

Her  alarm  and  resignation,  the  conjunction  of  which 
neither  Diganu  nor  Chretien  could  accurately  compre- 
hend, aggravated  their  disquietude  and  anxiety  ;  which 
were  not  alleviated,  by  their  perceiving,  that  a  strange 
Priest5  with  his  unknown  companion^  seemed  to  be 


m 

constantly  watching  all  their  motions.  Those  spies, 
as  they  frequently  passed  the  house,  especially  stopped 
when  near  it,  and  appeaiHd  to  be  prying  keenly  as  if  to 
discover  all  their  concerns  and  visitors  ;  and  they  were 
also  noticed  not  to  cease  their  scrutiny  even  after  the 
day  had  ended. 

On  the  third  day  prior  to  the  intended  marriage, 
while  pursuing  their  business,  Diganu  and  Chretien 
fancied,  that  they  had  seen  in  the  street,  one  of  the 
Indian  women  who  had  nursed  Louise  during  her 
sickness  at  Lorette  ;  and  were  strangely  agitated  at 
their  dinner,  when  they  were  informed  by  Louise,  that 
the  Squaw  had  forced  herself  unceremoniously  into  the 
house  ;  and  notwithstanding  every  attempt  to  conceal 
herself,  and  to  elude  recognition  ;  that  the  Indian 
woman  had  gone  away,  resolutely  maintaining,  that 
she  was  the  very  same  person  who  had  been  found  at 
Loiette,  and  that  she  knew  her  amid  all  her  disguise. 

Fatuity  itself  could  not  possibly  suppose,  from  the 
-peculiar  season,  of  her  rude  visit  to  an  unknown  dwell 
ing,  that  this  rencontre  was  either  fortuitous  or  unin- 
tentional. Diganu  and  Chretien  both  urged  Louise 
to  change  the  place  where  the  ceremony  should  be  per- 
formed. She  remained  inflexible  on  that  point ;  assur- 
ing them,  as  she  said — "  the  result  will  not  be  altered 
fey  any  scheme  which  we  can  devise  or  effect ;  and  I 
am  convinced,  when  you  shall  have  heard  my  tale, 
vour  opinions  and  mine  will  perfectly  agree/'' 
3* 


34 

The  parties  met  at  the  close  of  the  last  day  ;  for 
Louise  had  expressly  stipulated  that  Chretien  shoulcJ 
be  present ;  and  to  their  profound  astonishment,  she  was 
arrayed  in  the  same  dress  in  which  they  had  first  be- 
held her.  Diganu  and  his  friend  were  deeply  affected, 
The  former  felt  entirely  enervated  with  the  weight  of 
his  recollections,  his  fears,  and  his  expectations. 

"  You  will  excuse  my  clothing — said  the  timid  sob- 
oing  girl — it  will  be  my  bridal  array  :  and  it  was  the 
most  suitable  for  me  to  appear  in,  while  unfolding  the 
causes  of  our  first  meeting,  with  all  its  pleasing  and 
painful  consequences." 

Diganu  seated  himself  by  her  side.  As  he  took  her 
hand,  she  leaned  herhead  on  his  shoulder— "you  must 
not  look  at  me — she  remarked — while  I  tell  you  my 
short  but  sorrowful  history.  Our  relative  situation  re- 
quires this  sacriSceof  my  feelings  in  honour  and  duty 
to  you  ;  and  the  care,  tenderness,  delicacy  and  affection 
which  you  both  have  ever  manifested  towards  me 
encourages  this  confidence  in  you.  If  we  are  for- 
cibly separated — and  a  sigh,  which  escaped  from  each 
expressed  their  mutual  anxiety — my  tale  will  teach 
you  to  lament  your  lost  companion  ;  and  if  we  should 
be  united,  it  will  prove,  that  you  may  ever  confide  in 
the  sincerity  and  faithful  attachment  of  )rour  Louise." 

During  the  pause  which  ensued,  while  Louise  was 
endeavoring  to  summon  fortitude  for  the  detail  '  hich 
her  friends  were  so  anxiously  expecting,  a  knock  was 
heard  at  the  door.    Chretien  answered  the  call;  and  re 


SB 

turned  with  a  letter  for  Diganu.  Upon  examining 
the  superscription,  it  developed  a  female's  chirography. 
Louise  had  no  sooner  glanced  at  the  envelope,  than  she 
was  seized  with  an  involuntary  convulsive  shuddering; 
When  the  fit  had  partially  subsided,  she  faintly  articu- 
lated.— "  I  know  that  writing  and  seal.  I  have  seen 
it  once  before.  It  is  the  harbinger  of  my  misery."  Af- 
ter a  long  pause,  with  the  profound  silence  of  her  two 
friends,  she  added, — "but  I  bless  God,  that  if  he  permits 
my  tormentors  to  make  me  wretched,  he  has  given  me 
grace  to  resist  all  their  arts  to  render  me  criminal." 

Diganu  having  read  the  letter,  presented  it  to  Chretien 
lor  his  perusal.  During  this  interval,  the  former  impa- 
tiently traversed  the  room,  absorbed  in  thought;  and 
when  his  friend  restored  him  the  ominous  scroll,  he 
motioned  his  hand  that  Louise  might  inspect  its  mys- 
terious contents.  Both  were  too  overpowered  to  speak, 
Louise  examined  the  sheet  with  varying  features  ;  and 
when  her  first  powerful  excitement  had  passed  away, 
she  was  less  agitated  than  could  have  been  supposed. 
Her  feelings  speedily  assumed  the  character  of  a  settled 
purpose,  to  submi<,  with  all  possible  fortitude,  to  the  ca- 
lamity which  in  her  judgment  was  clearly  inevita- 
ble. At  length ;  she  thus  interrupted  the  silence, 
uMy  sensibilities  always  told  me,  Diganu.  that  you 
were  indulging  chimerical  hopes  respecting  our  union: 
and  however  unaccountable  the  fact ;  my  affection 
for  you  is  of  a  totally  different  quality,  from  that  which 
nature  dictates  to  me,  I  should  have  felt  for  Chretien, 
had  circumstances  and  our  mutual  inclinations  induced 


36 

liim  to  have  made  me  a  proffer  of  his  hand  and  heart 
But  it  is  now  too  late  to  reverse  the  past ;  and  not  less 
impossible  to  change  the  manifest  certainties  of  the   fu- 
ture." 

Before  Louise  commenced  her  narrative,  Chretien 
proposed  to  discuss  the  contents  of  the  letter,  and  to  de- 
cide upon  its  intimations.  The  sheet  was  perfectly 
anonymous  ;  it  unveiled  neither  place,  date  nor  signa^ 
r.ure ;  and  was  obviously  written  with  great  delibera- 
tion.    Its  contents  follow. 

To  Diganu. 

You  are  surrounded  with  dangers.  It  has  been  as- 
certained that  you  have  living  with  you  a  young  wo- 
man called  Louise  ;  and  that  you  are  to  be  married 
after  Easter.  She  never  can  be  your  wife.  Pauvres 
miserables !  Poor  wretches  !  You  are  in  a  labyrinth, 
and  cannot  be  extricated.  The  only  mode  of  escape 
would  be  by  fleeing  from  the  Province;  but  that 
now  is  impossible.  You  are  watched  by  day  and 
by  night;  and  any  attempt  to  elope  would  ensure 
your  own  death,  with  that  of  Louise  and  your  friend 
Chretien.  Not  only  would  you  all  three  be  murdered, 
but  no  vestige  of  you  would  be  found,  and  no  inquiry 
would  be  made  after  you.  It  is  impossible  to  avoid  it. 
You  and  Louise  shall  be  separated.  If  you  do  not 
present  yourselves  for  the  marriage  ceremony  as  pro- 
posed, Louise  will  be  taken  from  your  house  on  that  eve- 
ning by  force,  and  the  consequences  of  attempting  to 
protect  her,  will  be  horrible.     But  remember  ;  if  you 


37 

proceed  to  Lorette  to  be  united  ;  she  will  be  taken  from 
you  at  the  Altar.  Do  not  offend  the  Holy  Priests, 
Believe  what  they  tell  you.  Do  just  as  they  say ; 
and  all  will  yet  be  well." 

"  Stop  !    Chretien — said     Louise    hastily — let    me 
ihinkfora  moment."  After  a  pause  she  thus  continu 
ed — "those  are  the  very  words  which   were  in  the  let- 
ter that  I  received  in  the  same  hand-writing.     There 
must  be  some  wonderful  mystery  in  tins  matter." 

Chretien  proceeded  to  read — "  It  is  of  no  use  to  resist, 
You  will  thereby  only  injure  ycurself,  increase  sorrow 
for  Louise,  and  involve  your  friend  in  di-tress.  Louise 
has  offended  the  Church.  She  is  strongly  suspected  to 
he  a  heretic.  Some  time  ago,  she  was  excommunicated. 
She  will  have  to  undergo  very  deep  penance,  before  she 
will  be  restored  to  the  bosom  of  our  holy  Mother." 

Louise  could  not  restrain  her  Christian  indignation, 
AH  the  plagues  pronounced  in  the  eighteenth  chapter 
of  the  Revelation  be  upon  your  holy  Mother  ! — she 
proclaimed  with  great  energy — thanks  be  unto  God,  I 
despise  your  excommunications  ;  and  as  for  your  deceit- 
ful penance,  I  woul<;  rather  brave  the  martyr's  fire, 
than  join  in  your  abominations  and  idolatry." 

"  Not  so  fast — interposed  Chretien — how  can  you< 
an  inexperienced  solitary  girl  set  up  your  judgment 
against  the  infallibility  of  the  Roman  Church  and  his 
holiness  the  Pope  f* 


38 

*  Nonsense  ! — retorted  Louise— they  Rie  infallible  in 
nothing  but  impiety  and  wickedness.  Pardon  my  in- 
terruption ;  this  is  no  time  for  religious  discussion  ;  but  I 
could  not  repress  the  sudden  excitement  of  my  contemp- 
tuous feelings,  for  such  a  base  effort  to  outrage  my  chris- 
tian principles,  and  disgrace  my  personal  character." 

Chretien  pursued  his  reading. — Ct  You  also  are  be- 
ginning to  i>e  suspected  of  heresy,  because  you  have 
encouraged  her.  She  has  great  sins  to  atone  for  in 
disobeying  the  Priests.  She  has  lost  the  benefif  of  the 
cross  on  her  forehead  by  departing  from  the  Church. 
Take  care  ;  for  by  receiving  her  opinions,  you  will  blot 
out  the  cross  on  your  own  head,  and  thus  rush  into 
misery.  You  know  that  if  we  do  not  do  as  the  Priests 
order  us,  w<-  shall  not  have  their  pardon  and  unction 
when  we  die.  nor  shall  we  obtain  the  comfort  of  their 
masses  in  another  world.  Be  upon  your  guard.  Give 
up  Louise  at  once,  peaceably.  Take  care  of  yourself. 
Keep  away  from  heretics.  Hearken  to  the  Priests ; 
and  then  you  will  be  happy. 


This  reference  to  the  crosses  imprinted  upon  Louise 
and  Diganu,  rendered  the  information  conveyed  by 
their  anonymous  correspondent  more  alarming — be- 
cause it  assuredly  implied  an  acquaintance  with  Louise 
and  Diganu  and  their  prior  life^of  the  very  early  parts 
of  which  they  themselves  were  altogether  ignorant. 
The  only  particular  which  either  Diganu  or  Louise 
had  ever  explained  to  each  other,  was  in  reference  to 


39 

the  expression  of  Louise,  when  the  proposal  of  mar 
riage  was  so  abruptly  but  formally  made  ;  and  when 
she  described  herself  as  a  "  wretched  orphan."  ( >n  a 
subsequent  occasion,  Diganu  remarked — "  this  can  be 
no  objection.  I  am  an  orphan  too;  and  never  knew 
what  the  intercourse  or  feelings  of  friendship  and  affec- 
tion were,  except  vith  you  and  Chretien." 

When  he  had  concluded  the  letter,  Chretien  remark- 
ed—" We  cannot  live  long  in  this  state  of  alarm  and 
uncertainty  ;  but  the  alternatives  seem  so  dreadful 
that  of  the  three,  I  am  inclined  to  adopt  the  plan  of 
self-defence  :  to  delay  your  marriage  for  a  short  period^ 
to  provide  a  safe-guard,  and  to  keep  as  much  in  the 
house  as  possible." 

Diganu  observed — "  This  plan  is  impracticable 
Duty  often  calls  me  from  home  :  you  are  generally 
away  during  the  hours  of  business  ;  in  whom  could  we 
confide  ?■  "  Nobody — answered  <  'hretien— but  what 
do  you  think  of  an  application  to  the  Governor  ?"  i(  The 
Governor  1 — exclaimed  Louise — he  would  not  dare  to 
do  any  thing  in  reference  to  the  matter,  except  as  the 
Bishop  and  the  Priests  direct.  Besides  the  continual 
alarms  and  fears  would  be  more  afflictive  than  the 
reality.  One  is  sudden  calamity  ;  the  other  would  be 
never  ending  bitterness,  with  additional  danger  in  the 
end,  for  no  advantage," 

Chretien  however  was  dissatisfied,  and  again  inquir- 
ed— "  Is  there  not  one  person  to  be  trusted  ?"  "  I  be- 
lieve not— replied  Diganu — who  bears  a  higher  charac 


40 

lev  for  honor,  than  the  Doctor?  and  yet  circuity 
stances  convince  me.  that  he  has  been  the  main-spring 
of  this  treacherous  plot  against  us.  Besides,  could  I 
even  trust  in  your  fidelity,  Chretien,  if  the  Pretre 
ordered  you  to  betray  us." 

The  question  was  apropos.  His  unreserved  sub- 
jection to  a  Jesuit ;  the  endeared  claims  of  friendship 
from  childhood  ;  and  the  sacred  obligations  of  honor 
and  duty,  all  were  here  at  once  arrayed  together  in 
direct  collision.  Louise  half  smiled  in  her  tears,  as 
she  contemplated  the  internal  conflict  which  agitated 
Chretien. 

With  great  embarrassment,  after  a  long  pause,  he 
replied — "  You  know,  Diganu,  I  could  not  disobey  the 
Priest  without  risking  the  salvation  of  my  soul." 

"  Eh  bien  !  very  well — rejoined  Diganu— We  are 
bound  together  by  worldly  interest ;  by  long  confiden- 
tial familiarity  ;  by  domestic  residence  ;  and  by  ah 
most  brotherly  ties — and  yet  if  that  Pretre  who  was 
here  before,  came  and  demanded  Louise  during  my  ab- 
sence, 3'ou  would  give  her  into  his  power;  or  if  he  now 
entered  with  some  ruffians  to  seize  her  by  force,  in- 
stead of  resisting  him  and  defending  me,  you  would 
unite  with  him  at  his  command  to  rob  me  of  mv 
greatest  earthly  comfort." 

({ No,  no,  indeed  !  answered  his  astounded  friend, 
startled  at  this  picture  of  treachery  and  priestly  despo 
tism— I  could  not  betray  and  desert  you." 


41 

Ah,  my  friend ! — remarked  Louise,  very  tenderly — 
you  know  not  )Tourself.  Much  as  I  respect  your  prin 
ciples  and  spirit;  I  know  your  frailty  in  this  point. 
You  would  not  consider  yourself  in  that  case  as  per- 
fidious or  cruel.  It  would  be  a  mere  fulfilment  of  a 
duty  consecrated  by  your  fancied  religion  in  its  most 
authoritative  claims.  1  cannot  trust  you.  It  would 
certainly  destroy  Diganu,  and  only  endanger  yourself/ 

Chretien  appeared  to  be  vexed  at  her  suspicion? 
and  want  of  confidence — "  be  not  displeased — she 
subjoined,  kindly  offering  him  her  hand — I  judge  from 
myself.  Three  years  since,  I  should  as  readily  have 
obeyed  a  Priest's  command  in  every  thing,  as  I  should 
row  obstinately  refuse  to  comply  with  it." 

(-  Louise  is  correct— remarked  Diganu — twelve 
months  ago,  I  am  certain  that  there  is  no  action  how- 
ever wicked, which  could  have  been  committed  without 
the  certainty  of  an  ignominious  punishment  by  law ; 
that  I  should  not  have  performed,  if  the  Pretre  had 
enjoined  it.  I  should  have  risked  any  thing  to  fulfL 
his  orders,  confident  that  he  was  able  to  save  me  from 
all  trouble/5 

In  this  declaration,  Chretien  acquiesced  ;  and  Louise 
therefore  speedily  convinced  them,  that  it  was  prefer- 
able for  one  to  suffer  than  all  ;  that  her  condition  at 
the  worst  could  not  be  more  afflictive  and  perilous,  than 
when  they  first  saw  ber  ;  that  it  would  only  aggravate 
her  sorrows  to  know,  that  her  beloved  friends  were  alsc 

4 


m 

exposed  to  the  Priest's  ruthless  spite  ;  that  it  was  fai 
more  safe  to  terminate  their  perplexities  without  delay  ; 
that  if  their  fears  were  unauthorised,  their  future  com- 
fort would  only  be  increased  after  their  disquietudes 
had  vanished  ;  and  that  therefore  to  Lorette  they  would 
proceed  in  the  morning  as  already  arranged. 

The  interruption  occasioned  by  the  letter,  and  the 
subsequent  conversation  had  partially  stengthened 
iLouise  for  her  promised  engagement.  From  the  final 
acquiescence  of  her  friends  in  her  decision,  she  had  felt 
encouraged  ;  and  silently  casting  all  her  cares  upon 
God  who  careth  for  those  who  trust  in  him,  and  men- 
tally invoking  his  grace  and  protection  ;  she  once  more 
composed  herself  by  the  side  of  Diganu  to  narrate  hev 
ibrmer  experience 


NARRATIVE    BY    LOUISE 


At  last,  while  bitter  tears  I  shed, 
To  heaven  I  raised  my  prayer, 

And  found,  when  earthly  joys  are  fled, 
There  still  is  comfort  there. 


44 1  am  totally  ignorant — Louise  slated — of  my  pa- 
rents, my  birth-place,  and  my  age.  I  was  never  ad= 
dressed  except  as  Louise ;  and  never  permitted  to 
assume  any  name  but  Louise  M.  My  earliest  recollec- 
tion  is  connected  with  Point  aux  Trembles.  I  re- 
member a  farmer's  wife  with  whom  I  lived  ;  and  also 
a  Nun,  who  often  came  to  the  house,  and  engaged  my 
childish  attachment,  by  giving  me  trinkets  and  sweet- 
meats.  I  was  early  taught  to  read,  write,  and  sew,  by 
this  Nun ;  and  continued  there,  after  my  first  impres- 
sions, about  four  years,  when  I  was  sent  to  the  Ursu- 
line  Nunnery  at  Quebec,  and  was  duly  instructed  in 
every  art  which  is  there  used.  My  old  friend  the  Nun 
1  saw  very  frequently  ;  but  as  I  grew  up,  she  appeared 
to  feel  little  or  no  interest  in  me.  I  made  tolerable 
proficiency,  and  was  declared  rather  tall  and  womanish 
for  my  age,  which  was  never  communicated  to  me. 
I  consider  myself,  however,  to  be  about  twenty  yeare 
old,  but  I  cannot  speak  with  precision. 

'l  It  is  now  nearly  five  years  ago,  that  I  was  removed 


44 

back  to  Point  aux  Trembles,  and  was  employed  for  lw# 
years  in  a  variety  of  offices  about  that  establishment 
oftheReligieuses.  During  this  period,  my  mind  was 
in  constant  training  by  the  Nuns  and  the  Pretres.  The 
whole  course  of  the  ceremonies,  and  all  the  exact  rou- 
tine of  the  forms  of  the  Missal,  I  attended  with  the 
most  scrupulous  regularity,  and  the  least  known  devia- 
tion would  have  made  me  wretched.  To  the  authority 
of  the  holy  church,  and  to  the  lofty  character  and  god 
like  power  of  the  Priests  to  command,  pardon,  save  and 
curse  the  people  here  and  forever,  £  bowed  down  with 
the  most  implicit  belief,  and  with  the  completest  submis- 
sion ;  and  with  a  full  persuasion  that  in  complying 
with  the  Pretre's  wishes,  I  was  fulfilling  the  law  of  God, 
Hints  were  often  give  me,  that  I  must  become  a  nun  ; 
and  all  the  superior  virtue  and  wonderful  sanctity  of 
that  mode  of  life  were  constantly  set  before  me  in  the 
most  enchanting  colors.  The  third  year  of  my  resi- 
dence had  neaily  elapsed  ;  and  it  was  proposed,  thai  the 
next  year  should  be  devoted  by  me  to  all  those  pursuits 
which  would  enable  me  to  enter  upon  my  Noviciate, 
and  speedily  to  attain  the  honors,  as  they  impiously 
term  it,  of  the  "angelic"  life.  It  was  at  this  crisis, 
that  the  change  in  my  little  affairs  occurred  which  has 
been  so  externally  afflictive,  and  so  consolatory  in 
heart, 

"  At  a  short  distance  from  the  convent,  resided  an 
old  decrepid  woman  who  had  migrated  from  Guernsey, 
She  was  little  known  ;  and  her  age,  and  infirmities  and 
isolated  condition  excused  her  from  much   intercourse 


45 

with  the  neighboring  people.  I  was  often  sent  to  visit 
her,  to  inquire  into  her  condition,  and  to  carry  her  tri= 
fling  articles  of  clothing  and  food.  She  gradually  de- 
clined ;  and  it  was  clearly  perceptible,  that  her  decease 
was  not  very  distant.  On  one  occasion  when  we  were 
alone — "  Ma  chere,  ray  dear !  said  Marguerite— I  hear 
bad  news  concerning  you." 

'What  do  you  mean  !"  was  my  reply. 

"I  am  told — she  continued — that  you  are  going  into 
l  lie  nunnery,  after  a  little  while  ;  and  I  am  sorry  for  it." 

'Why? — I  asked — They  say   that  a  Nun  passes 
?he  most  holy,  peaceful  and  heavenly  life  possible." 

"  Ah  !  ma  chere;  my  dear — she  uttered  with  much 
ieeling — vous  vous  etes  meprise,  you  are  intirely  mis- 
taken. It  is  the  most  miserable,  and  the  most  guilty 
life  in  the  world." 

"  How  can  that  be  7 — I  inquired — What  do  you 
know  of  Convents?" 

"  I  was  born  in  France — she  replied — 1  have  seen 
much  of  the  world  ;  and  if  you  will  not  tell  my  history 
fc  any  person  until  after  I  am  buried,  you  shall  hear 
something  which  Marguerite  has  seen." 

The  promise  was  made.  "  I  was  formerly  and  foi 
nuanv  vears — the  old  woman  informed  me — a  menial 

4* 


4.6 

servant  about  a  convent  in  France,,  and  the  evils  wtrtci* 
were  practised  within  its  walls  exceed  all  belief.  A* 
last,  I  began  to  consider  whether  it  was  possible  for  a 
religion  to  be  true  and  from  God,  which  allowed  such 
wicked  doings.  Ah  !  ces  Pieties-  Jesuites — said  the 
emaciated  Christian,  with  all  the  energy  which  she 
was  capable  to  exert — s'il  y  a  un  Diable  sur  la  terre, 
^eux-ci  le  sont.  Ah  !  those  Jesuit  priests;  if  there  is  a 
levil  upon  earth,  they  are  he.'5 

"  I  contrived  to  leave  Normandy,  and  cross  over  to 
Guernsey  }  and  there  I  resided,  until  I  came  to  thr< 
ountry.  I  have  been  among  the  same  people  in  Cana- 
da. They  are  all  alike,  not  quite  so  bad  here,  because 
they  are  more  scattered,  among  fewer  people,  easier 
noticed,  and  a  little  afraid  of  the  Protestant  Govern 
ment, 

"  My  prejudices — remarked  Louise — as  you  may 
well  suppose,  were  all  excited ;  and  in  my  heart,  ] 
wished  the  old  widow  every  possible  curse.  She  saw 
my  opinions  in  my  wrathful  countenance,  and  allayed 
my  anger  by  her  remarks — "  You  dislike  to  hear  these 
:hings  now — said  Marguerite — so  did  1  once.  ]  had 
been  taught  by  my  Mother,  that  the  Priest  was  in  God's 
place ;  that  the  Pope  had  the  command  of  Heaven, 
Earth,  and  Hell ;  and  that  the  Abbes,  the  Cures,  and 
^hePretres  must  be  feared  and  obeyed  in  every  thing, 
or  we  should  be  miserable  in  this  world  and  in  the  next. 
Thus  I  grew  up  to  maturity,  as  docile,  and  as  submis 
>ive  to  the  Priest  as  my  neighbors  :  and  like  them,  nol 


47 

'tess  seif-willed  and  disobedient  towards  God.  When 
1  became  a  young  woman ;  I  went  into  the  service  of 
a  gentleman  who  never  went  to  Mass,  or  Confession. 
He  was  a  rich  man ;  and  the  Priest  allowed  him  a 
constant  dispensation  for  disobeying  all  the  laws  of  the 
Church  for  a  good  sum  of  money,  which  was  paid 
every  year.  I  have  often  heard  him  tell  among  his 
friends  when  they  visited  him,  in  what  way  the  Priests 
maintained  their  power  and  hood-winked  the  people. 
It  is  almost  all  done  at  Confession,  and  through  the 
women.  Children  are  taught  from  their  infancy,  thai 
all  persons  out  of  the  Church  will  be  accursed.  The 
boys  are  retained  in  bondage,  by  ignorance,  or  fear,  oi 
interest,  or  their  connections,  or  indifference,  or  corrup 
tion  and  participation  in  crime ;  for  as  they  can  buy 
absolution  for  all  sins,  they  can  practise  every  vice,  and 
by  a  little  money,  or  by  serving  the  Priests,  they  can 
blot  out  all  the  account  against  them. 

'•But  even  all  these  schemes  would  not  complete  the 
design^  without  the  aid  of  the  women.  They  are 
therefore  trained  with  all  care  into  passive  obedience  and 
non-resistance  to  the  Priest .  They  are  made  to  believe ; 
!  hat  every  thing  is  true  which  he  says,  and  that  every 
thing  is  proper  which  he  desires.  This  dreadfully  wick- 
ed doctrine  is  sanctioned  by  the  assurance,  that  he  can 
pardon  every  sin  ;  and  that  without  his  good-will,  no 
person  will  go  to  Heaven.  Under  this  influence,  the 
women  are  all  entangled.  The  Priest,  by  confes"sionT 
discovers  all  their  inclinations  and  thoughts.  He  then 
holds  the  rod  over  them  to  force  them  to  his  own  an- 


48 

godly  purposes.  Ah  \  ma  chere,  prenez  garde ;  my 
dear,  take  care.  Watch  around  you.  l„ook  at  every 
thing.  Do  not  be  afraid  to  examine  for  yourself 
Above  all  things,  never  become  a  nun.  In  my  coun- 
try, the  Pretres  could  tell  some  wonderful  stories  about 
the  convents;  and  unless  I  am  mistaken;  many 
a  dismal,  wicked,  and  bloody  history  would  be  found 
out  in  Canada  ;  if  all  the  Priests  were  not  in  a  league 
to  help  each  other,  and  keep  their  mutual  secrets.  They 
first  make  the  women  sinners,  and  then  so  frighten 
them,  that  they  dare  not  expose  their  scandalous  prac- 
tices. Once,  a  modest  young  woman  used  to  come 
here,  who  went  into  a  Nunnery  by  the  order  of  two 
Priests,  after  she  had  a  child  by  each  of  them.  What 
is  become  of  them,  I  never  could  hear  ;  but  the  last 
time  I  saw  her,  she  was  one  of  the  worst  and  most  im- 
pudent creatures,  I  ever  heard  talk." 

"  At  this  part  of  Marguerite's  narrative — said  Louise ; 
my  attention  was  deeply  arrested  ;  for  I  fancied,  that  I 
could  perceive  a  resemblance  in  this  trait,  between  the 
Nun  who  so  many  years  before  had  been  so  kind  to 
me,  and  her  demeanor  at  our  last  interview. 

u  The  feeble  Christian  woman  continued — "  I  left 
the  Roman  Church  in  Guernsey — as  1  have  always 
been  ailing  ;  and  nobody  cared  much  about  me,  I  have 
contrived  to  live  here  without  being  discovered  and 
persecuted.     Ma  chere  !    my  dear,  how  old  are  you  V 

•4  To  this  question — remarked  Louise — I  could  on  I  v 
answer — "I  have  never  heard,  I  cannot  tell." 


49 

41  Then  it  is  as  I  have  long  suspected — added  Mar= 
guerite — mais  n'  importe,  no  matter.  You  are  just  now 
at  the  right  age,  and  hold  the  very  fittest  sentiments  to 
be  the  subject  for  a  Priest's  stratagem.  Hearken  to  a 
dying  woman  who  can  have  no  interest  in  deceiving 
you  ;  I  may  not  have  strength  or  another  opportunity 
Lo  give  you  my  advice.  W  lien  a  Priest  offers  to  violate 
your  modesty,  whether  by  force,  or  by  enticement,  or  by 
his  pretended  priestly  authority,  or  by  Jesuitical  finesse; 
attempting  to  persuade  you  that  vice  is  virtue,  or  to  pal- 
liate sin  under  the  pretext  of  his  power  to  absolve  you, 
and  his  ability  to  render  you  as  pure,  as  if  you  had 
never  known  defilement  ;  listen  not  to  him  even  for  a 
moment.  Bear  all  privations  ;  and  submit  to  every 
torture,  rather  than  voluntarily  yield  to  his  seductive 
wiles  or  his  menacing  intimidations." 

•I  was  so  shocked  at  these  insinuations — Louise  re- 
marked— that  I  could  scarcely  believe  my  ears,  or  ad- 
mit that  the  old  widow  had  not  wandered  out  of  he* 
senses  into  a  delirium.  When  I  had  recovered  from 
my  surprise  and  confusion  :  1  asked  her  tremulously, 
"is  it  possible  such  things  can  be  true  ?" 

"  As  true — Marguerite  replied — as  that  I  am  upon 
the  very  verge  of  eternity  ;  and  from  very  indistinct 
recollections  of  past  things,  which  you  have  brought, 
afresh  to  my  mind ;  if  you  are  not  the  daughter  of  a 
Priest  and  a  Nun,  then  I  am  much  deceived." 

i5This  operated  upon  me*— said  Louise — like  & 


50 

charm ;  and  I  endeavored  to  discover  the  secrets  con- 
nected with  my  infancy;  but  my  effort  was  vain. 
The  old  woman  either  knew  nothing  certain  upon  the 
subject  ;  or  she  thought  it  preferable  not,  from  suspi- 
cion only,  to  expose  me  to  jeopardy  and  trouble." 

Having  repeated  her  advice  and  warning  to  me  in 
a  most  impressive  manner,  and  agaiti  exacted  my  so- 
lemn promise  to  retain  her  secret — '  I  would  give  you, 
my  dear  ! — subjoined  Marguerite — my  bible  ;  but  now 
it  will  do  you  no  good.  You  could  not  read  and  keep 
it.  It  has  long  been  my  only  comfort,  as  it  first  also 
taught  me  the  way  of  piety  and  peace.  I  shall  leave 
it  to  the  orphan  child  whom  1  have  adopted,  with  all 
my  other  trifles.  If  the  Cure  steals  and  burns  the 
blessed  book,  his  shall  be  the  sin.  I  thank  God,  that  I 
was  enabled  to  place  the  boy  in  comfort  in  Quebec, 
where  the  Priests  will  never  have  any  power  over  him. 
When  you  have  experienced,  as  I  foresee  you  will,  the 
fulfilment  of  my  worst  suspicions  ;  and  when  you  think 
of  your  present  religion  as  I  now  do  ;  if  you  can — and 
her  heart  -  melting  tones,  with  her  affecting,  pathetic  and 
tender  looks  will  never  be  forgotten — procure  a  JNew 
Testament.  O  read  it !  O  pray  for  wisdom  from  God 
to  understand  it  !  and  you  will  do  as  1  have  long  ago 
done.  You  will  burn  the  crucifix,  the  images,  the 
rosary  and  the  missal,  with  all  the  other  deceitful  relics 
of  idolatry ;  and  then  prepare  for  sorrow  and  persecution. 
But  stand  fast  in  your  purity — grasping  my  hand 
with  all  her  strength — and  God  will  deliver  you  !" 


51 

"I listened  to  Marguerite- — said  Louise— with  great 
interest.  Her  emaciated  appearance,  and  the  deep 
toned  pathos  and  solemnity  with  which  she  thus  un- 
veiled her  true  character ;  the  causes  of  the  change 
wrought  in  her  principles  and  conduct ;  the  personal 
application  of  subjects  to  myself  of  which  I  never  before 
had  formed  a  distinct  idea  ;  the  appalling  precipice  on 
which  she  represented  me  as  standing,  ready  to  plunge 
into  the  abyss  of  irrecoverable  degradation  and  crime  ; 
the  new  liijht  in  which  all  that  I  had  deemed  sacred 
was  presented  to  me,  as  arrayed  in  the  most  depraved 
and  most  loathsome  deformity  ;  and  her  prophetic  cau= 
tious  and  intimations  produced  a  complicated  thought- 
fulness  and  tremor,  which  I  had  never  before  realised, 

"As  some  other  visitor  approached ;  she  took  my  hand 
again;  once  more  received  my  double  promise  to  retain 
her  secret,  and  watch  for  my  own  security  ;  and  there 
our  intercourse  ended. 

"Duringthe  remaining  daysof  her  mortal  existence  no 
opportunity  occurs*  to  exchange  more  than  the  speak- 
ing features  and  our  united  hands  could  communicate? 
but  it  appeared  to  console  her.  The  little  that  she  ut- 
tered was  in  very  cautious  language ;  that  her  true 
religious  opinions  might  not  expose  her  tovexation  while 
living,  and  her  mortal  remains  to  insult  after  her  spirit, 
had  winged  its  flight  to  Paradise.  I  thought  even  then*, 
that  her  expressions  differed  from  our  common  phrases  ; 
but  blind  as  I  was,  like  all  the  people  there,  I  did  not 
comprehend  her  true  meaning  ;  now  I  think  1  under- 
stand what  she  intended.     When  she  spoke  of  repenf- 


52 

ance  towards  God;  I  supposed  she  had  done  all  needful 
penance.  She  talked  of  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
as  the  rock  of  her  hopes  ;  and  we  naturally  but  very 
stupidly  applied  it  to  the  Pope,  and  Peter,  and  the 
Virgin  Mary.  When  she  mentioned  the  comfort  that 
she  felt  in  knowing  that  her  "transgressions  were  for- 
given, and  that  her  sin  was  covered  ;"  we  of  course  in 
Cerpreted  it  of  the  Pretre's  plenary  absolution.  She 
told  us  of  "  seeing  Jesus  ;"  and  we  fancied  that  she  was 
booking  at  the  crucifix  ! — Ah  !  my  friends  ;  how  blind 
we  are,  who  are  thus  brought  up  under  Roman  Priests ! 
Well  may  we  always  pray  :  "  O  Lord,  turn  us  from 
darkness  to  light ;  open  our  eyes  that  we  may  behold 
wondrous  things  out  of  thy  law  !'l 

11  Providentially  for  Marguerite,  the  Cure  was  absent 
during  the  last  days  of  her  existence  ;  and  only  return- 
ed in  time  to  administer  his  extreme  unction ;  when  the 
dying  believer  was  totally  unconscious  of  all  things 
external.  About  the  end  of  his  soul-deceiving  cere 
mony,  she  breathed  no  more.  • 

".  After  her  interment ;  her  Bible  was  found ;  and 
well  do  I  recollect  the  fury  which  it  produced.  The 
Cure  raged  like  a  madman  ;  and  his  silly  followers  all 
vented  their  noisy  execrations.  Marguerite's  hypocrisy 
and  heresy,  with  the  lamentations  of  her  neighbors  for 
their  kindness  and  attentions  to  the  helpless  and  dying- 
heretic,  were  permanent  themes  of  discussion,  until 
time  alone  allayed  the  storm.  I  was  frequently  ques- 
tioned about  her  Bible  by  the  Priest  and  Nuns  :  but.  I 


pleaded  perfect  ignorance  of  the  matter,  and  denied 
that  I  had  ever  seen  it,  which  was  true.     It  was  finally 
concluded,  that  what  a  Jesuit,  with  all  his  eagle-eyed 
and  sleepless  perspicacity,  and  Nuns,  with  all  their  ex 
quisite  cunning  craftiness,  could  not  discover,  would 
not  be  discerned  by  an  unsuspecting   girl,  who  had 
never  heard  of  la  sainte  Bible,   or  le  nouveau   Tes 
lament  ;    the   holy   Bible   or   the   New    Testament 
;:  Female  curiosity  powerfully  impelled  me  ;  and  I  be  , 
gan    to  feel  a  restless  uneasiness,  from  the  |novel  sub 
jects  which  Marguerite  had  presented  to  my  contem 
plation.     My  time  was  partly  appropriated    to   visit? 
among  the  different  Nuns  in  Quebec  ;*tliat  I  might 
become  fully  initiated  in  all  the  routine  which  would 
devolve  upon  me,  when  I  was  placed  upon  my  Novici 
ate.     The  scenes  which  I  witnessed  certainly  would 
have  attracted  little  or  no  observation,  had  my  mind 
not  been  directed  to  watchfulness,  and  had  not  a  clue 
fjeen  gwen  to  me  to  interpret  them  ;  but  those  scene? 
gradually  corroborated  the  views  of  a  convent's  interior, 
which  the  widow  had  presented  to  me  in  her  repulsive 
picture  of  the  turpitude  of  Nunneries.     Being  consid 
?red  as    completely   within  their  power;  Isoon  was 
admitted  to  the  more  hidden  proceedings  Atfhese  se 
ret  recesses  of  human  life. 

,:  As  my  intercourse  became  mere   familiar,  and  the 
reserve  of  novel  acquaintance  gradually  disappeared 
my  convictions  of  the  truth  of  Marguerite's  statement 
became  not  only  more  definite,  but  stronger,  and  more 
abiding.     The  statelv   prudishness  exhibited    befc»* 

5 


J4 

strangers  was  strikingly  contrasted  with  the  unseemly 
and  indecorous  levity  in  their  unobserved  and  private 
pursuits ;  and  the  sly,  leering,  licentious  Jesuit,  when 
conversing  with  a  Nun  alone,  or  with  the  two  Consoci 
ated  sisters  who  occupied  the  same  apartment,  was  a 
very  different  individual  from  the  gloomy  and  motion 
less  featured  Pretre  in  the  streets,  and  at  the  altar, 

H  This  metamorphosis,  which  in  many  instances  I 
should  have  thought  impossible,  first  excited  my  suspi- 
cions. Watchfulness,  as  the  dying  woman  had  pre- 
monished  me,  soon  produced  incredulity.  In  the  sanc- 
tified exterior  of  the  Pretres ;  I  perceived  nought  but 
hypocritical  assumptions.  This  naturally  led  to  doubts 
respecting  the  boasted  super-excellence,  not  only  of  the 
actors,  but  of  their  system  of  priestcraft.  Still  I  believed 
all  their  doctrines  as  far  as  I  knew  them,  and  tacitly 
admitted  all  their  claims.  Amid  the  gorgeousness  of 
their  ceremonial,  and  the  consequent  intoxication  of  the 
senses,  I  generally  forgot  all  the  contradictory  realities, 
which  I  saw  enacted  behind  the  curtain,  where  the  mask 
vvas  discarded, 

"  Several  months  of  the  year  revolved  in  this  man 
aer  ;  the  greater  portion  of  which  I  can  only  describe, 
ander  the  similitude  of  a  person  in  a  reverie  faintly  con- 
scious of  the  passing  exterior  scenes,  but  chiefly 
absorbed  in  his  own  mental  abstractions. 

11  Thus  I  was  increasingly   impressed  with  the   ac 
curacy  of  Marguerite's  views ;  yet  I  could  not  -have  cited 


55 

even  one  single  fact  distinctly  to  justify  my  inferences, 
The  circumstances  which  attracted  my  notice  were 
doubtless  enacted  before  me  as  a  decoy.  They  were 
disguised  under  such  endearing  names,  and  so  extenu- 
ated, and  pruned  of  their  offensive  luxuriance,  that 
often  I  condemned  my  harsh  suspicions,  which  flowed 
from  innate  feelings  of  propriety,  and  the  spontaneous 
dictates  of  natural  conscience. 

"1  was  providentially  extricated  from  this  vacillation 
of  mind  on  a  ude  from  Quebec  into  the  country.  The 
Nuns  directed  me  to  reside  for  a  short  period,  under  the 
pretence  of  purer  air,  near  Jacques  Cartier.  A  female 
companion  attended  me,  whom  in  vain  I  attempted  to 
identify.  Her  voice  was  the  only  character  of  which 
I  could  retrace  any  memorial ;  but  as  that  is  so  decep- 
tive a  criterion  of  judgment,  I  quickly  decided  (hat  my 
fellow  traveller  was  a  stranger.  After  much  ordinary 
chit-chat,  the  Nun,  for  I  am  now  convinced  that  she 
was  one  of  them,  although  so  disguised  a?  to  be  un- 
known, asked  me  some  questions  respecting  my  ideas 
of  a  conventual  life,  my  age,  my  predilections,  and  my 
news  of  the  future.  I  replied  as  cautiously  and  inde- 
cisively as  I  possibly  could.  The  siren  pretended  to 
express  her  delight  at  my  good  sense,  bashfuluess.  and 
prudence;  and  kissed  me  in  approbation  of  my  opinions 

;  After  a  short  period,  she  artfully  introduced  again 
aiy  wishes  about  the  Nunnery  :  and  by  way  of  argu- 
ment,  as  she  said,  she  would  state  the  objections  usual- 
ly advanced  by  the  Heretics  to  a  convent,  and  a  refuta- 


56 

ion  of  then.  When  she  recapitulated  all  my  own 
ideas  upon  the  subject,  I  was  surprised  ;  but  her  answers 
were  extremely  weak  and  frivolous.  She  however  trium- 
phed in  the  ingenuity  of  her  replies,  and  the  greatness  o! 
her  superiority  to  the  opponents  of  a  monastic  life  ;  and 
having  doubtless  presumed  that  her  preliminary  object 
was  effected;  she  asked  me— "how  old  are  you, 
Louise  ?'■' 

"  I  know  not — was  my  reply — nor  can  any  person 
tell  me,  that  I  ever  yet  saw." 

"  Let  me  look  at  you — she  rejoined  ;  and  turning 
back  my  hair  as  if  she  would  view  my  physiognomy — 
O  ho  !  what  have  we  here  ! — and  she  kissed  the  cross 
on  my  forehead — this  is  a  beautiful  mark,  and  proves 
/ou  to  be  a  true  daughter  of  our  Holy  Mother,  the 
hurch." 

"  I  know  not — was  my  answer — who  imprinted 
that  cross,  nor  the  object  for  which  it  was  placed 
;here." 

"  A  token  of  love,  child,  no  doubt — was  her  rejoin 
der  ;  casting  upon  me  a  most  expressive,  but  disgusting 
look,  which  made  me  blush,  for  I  was  filled  with 
shame — and  you  may  be  proud  to  wear  it.  But 
what  makes  you  blush  so  ?  were  you  ever  in  love  V 

"  I  returned  a  negative  to  this  question  ;  with  which 
•  he  expressed  her  satisfaction,  cautioning   me   against 


04 

fhe  admission  of  any  unholy  predilection  for  wicked 
2nen,  as  inconsistent  with  the  vows  of  the  sisterhood. 
She  then  began  a  long  eulogy  upon  the  happiness  of 
residing  in  a  Convent ;  where  persons  might  enjoy 
every  pleasure  of  life  without  restraint,  unreproached, 
and  exempt  from  the  fear  of  discovery. 

{;  She  managed  this  most  difficult  part  of  her  under- 
taking with  great  address.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
me  with  very  intense  scrutiny.  She  analyzed  my 
feelings  with  the  utmost  accuracy,  from  the  involunta- 
ry movements  of  my  countenance.  She  advanced, 
retreated,  moved  around,  was  softened  or  emboldened, 
just  as  she  perceived  most  effectual.  Her  serpentine 
wiles  and  cautious  approaches  finally  convinced  me,  that 
this  was  only  the  prelude  to  the  serious  drama,  hi  which 
I  was  doomed  soon  to  be  a  chief  character  ;  and  my 
promise  to  the  dying  Marguerite  recurred  in  all  its 
sanctity  and  efficacy  The  consequent  composure 
depicted  on  my  countenance  completely  deceived  that 
female  seducer ;  for  she  mistook  the  calmness  of  shield- 
ed purity,  for  the  tame  yielding  of  corrupted  virtue. 
Enough  was  unfolded  during  that  ride  to  convince  me, 
that  without  the  impediments  to  which  the  old  French 
woman  alluded,  and  even  with  them,  Monasteries  are 
the  earthly  vestibule  to  the  fearful  abodes  of  guilt  and 
eternal  despair.  From  that  time,  my  resolution  was 
fixed,  that  I  would  never  commence  the  proposed 
Noviciate 

•'  Three  days  did  the  artful  creature  remain  with  me 
5* 


58 

at  a  house,  the  inmates  of  which  were  more  repulsive 
than  my  heated  imagination  had  depicted  ;  from  the 
dislike  which  I  had  imbibed,  notwithstanding  her  flat 
tering  delineations.  There  I  first  saw  what  had  never 
before  existed  in  my  fancy.  Then  I  truly  felt  the 
reality  of  Marguerite's  aversion  to  a  pretended  religion, 
of  which  such  human  monsters  were  the  accredited  dis 
<  iples  and  teachers. 

"  After  a  short  period,  a  Pretre  entered  the  scene;  and 
unless  my  anticipations  are  perfectly  fallacious,  wre  shall 
see  him  to-morrow  at  Lorette — the  same  wretch  who 
m  the  other  day  denounced  you.  I  could  not  see  hip 
person  ;  but  the  tones  of  his  voice  are  too  strongly  en 
graven  upon  my  memory  ever  to  be  erased.  At  the 
house  whither  I  was  sent,  were  twTo  females,  adepts  in 
**very  species  of  vice.  All  their  artifices  were  directed 
to  undermine  my  innate  resistance  to  their  assaults 
upon  my  principles.  Their  shameless  examples  were 
added  to  their  other  efforts.  When  they  were  alone 
with  me  and  the  Priest,  every  attempt  was  made  to  in- 
duce me  to  join  in  their  disgusting  familiarities  with 
him.  Invariably  did  I  refuse,  and  although  it  was  im- 
possible to  hinder  or  to  escape  from  the  Pretre's  impu 
dent  blandishments,  yet  the  solemn  purposes  of  my  soul 
became  continually  more  stern. 

"  The  arguments  which  the  Priest  and  his  associates 
ised  to  extirpate  my  delicacy,  only  served  to  refine  and 
.strengthen  it ;  and  I  e.isily  adopted  Marguerite's  con 
•'fusion,  that  a  religion  which  permitted  and  justified 


69 

such  flagrant  violations  of  all  that  is  pure  and  consci 
entious ;  which  can  suborn  agents  to  seduce  innocence; 
and  insnare  the  weak  ;  which  sanctifies  vice,  degrades 
virtue,  and  confounds  all  moral  distinctions,  was  in 
curably  corrupt.  Not  that  I  had  any  right  to  infer  from 
the  conduct  of  a  few,  that  the  whole  body  were  trans 
gressors  ;  but  as  I  became  gradually  more  initiated  into 
their  secret  mysteries,  I  perceived  that  which  was  good 
disappear,  and  that  which  was  only  evil,  to  sway  thr 
sceptre. 

"  Having  been  thus  instructed  in  my  first  lesson  ;  at 
the  end  of  a  month,  I  was  sent  to  Quebec,  to  learn 
some  additional  rules  in  this  hopeful  science.  What 
I  saw  and  heard  ;  and  what  it  was  intended  I  should 
believe,  and  when  called  upon  practise,  must  remain 
a  secret.  One  thing  rather  astonished,  but  yet  pleased 
me  ;  neither  the  Superior  nor  the  Religieuses  ever  ad 
verted  to  trie  topic  of  my  Noviciate.  During  this  period 
the  life  of  a  Nun  was  gilded  over  in  its  most  beauteous 
array  ;  and  I  should  most  certainly  have  been  insnared, 
had  I  not,  been  influenced  by  Marguerite's  dying  com 
munication.  That  enabled  me  to  pierce  behind  the 
gaudy  attractive  scenes  ;  and  in  the  familiarity  of  all 
that  confidence  which  two  of  them  dared  to  exhibit,  I 
beheld  the  corroding  worm  which  devoured  all  their 
usefulness  anVJ  peace. 

•  I  was  agnedly  admitted  to  the  retired  hours  and 
occupation!  f  most  of  the  Nuns.  Some  were  fasti- 
diously res      ed  ;  others  acted  their  part   throughout ; 


60 

some  privately  displayed  their  genuine  tempers  ;  but 
two  only  candidly  unveiled  those  living  tombs  of  good- 
ness  and  virtue,  and  those  dread  sepulchral  abodes  of 
hypocrisy  and  pollution.  I  perceived,  that  a  monastic 
life  is  a  complete  masquerade,  in  which  all  the  charac- 
ters are  either  devotees  of  vice,  or  skeletons  of  misery  ; 
but  all  without  dignity,  or  goodness,  or  comfort ;  whore 
all  the  glories  of  which  they  boast  are  entirely  un- 
known, 

"  At  the  commencement  of  the  last  month  of  my  pro 
bationary  year ;  about  twenty  days  before  I  first  saw 
you  ;  I  was  again  remanded  to  the  country.  Who 
was  my  companion  on  that  occasion  I  know  not ;  if 
she  was  the  same  woman  as  on  the  former  journey, 
then  there  is  no  exterior  appearance  which  she  could 
not  conceal  or  counterfeit. 

"  We  started  from  Quebec,  to  my  utter  surprise  and 
dread,  in  the  afternoon,  in  a  large   covered  carriole, 
Which  way  we  travelled,  where  we  stopped,  or  at  what 
hour  of  the  night  we  arrived,  I  can  form  no  idea.    Some 
time  after  dark,  a  Pretre  entered  the  carriole  as  if  trav- 
elling the  same  road  ;  and  the  conversation   soon  as 
sumed  a  most   repulsive  character.     I  presently   com 
plained  of  fatigue,  and  composed  myself  as  if  for  sleep, 
anxious  to  unravel  their  plot.     Nothing  occurred  to  at 
tract  my  notice,  until  after  the  female  had  examined 
mc  ;  and  ascertained,   as  she  concluded,  that  I  was 
frsleep,      Curiosity  alone  kept  me  quiet,  while  I  heaid 


ui 

diem    explain  the   whole  mystery  ;    for  the  closing 
scene  was  now  to  be  enacted. 

"  It  appeared,  that  this  was  the  identical  Pretre  wit! 
whom  I  had  been  so  disgusted  at  Jacques  Carriers  't 
that  we  were  then  going  to  his  house  ;  that  I  was  to  be 
introduced  under  some  fictitious  character,  if  I  could 
not  be  altogether  concealed  ;  and  that  of  course,  I  was 
t®  be  the  slave  of  his  will,  until  the  time  appointed  foi 
the  commencement  of  my  Noviciate,  when  1  was  to  be 
transferred,  like  others  who  had  passed  through  the 
same  guilty  path,  to  the  convent;  and  as  it  would  be 
useless  afterwards  to  complaitr,  the  life  of  a  JSun  would 
be  preferred  by  me,  as  by  their  former  victims,  to  their 
malevolence  and  persecution.  The  most  shocking 
part  of  all  this  infamous  arrangement  was  this  ;  that 
the  Pretre's  atrocious  purpose,  in  case  of  necessity, 
was  to  be  accomplished  by  every  extremity  of  violence 
We  eventually  arrived  at  a  spot  where  the  Priest  left  us  ; 
and  after  some  distance,  we  alighted  at  a  house,  and 
there  passed  the  remainder  ot  the  night. 

"  ( >n  the  following  day,  after  a  considerable  ride,  m> 
female  companion  and  myself  entered  a  church,  and 
upon  a  signal  being  given  to  her,  we  proceeded  to  the 
sacristy,  which  was  immediately  fastened  from  without ; 
and  by  a  private,  if  not  generally  unknown  avenue, 
we  passed  into  the  Priest's  habitation.  When  I  saw 
him,  remembering  their  conversation  of  the  night 
before,  and  reflected  upon  Marguerite,  and  her  strange 
prediction  ;  my  heart  sunk  within  me,  and  I  was  ready 


62 

to  surrender  all  hope.  But  wiien  I  was  in  the  room 
where  they  ordered  me  to  disrobe,  I  endeavored  to  pray 
unto  God,  through  Jesus  Christ,  in  words  of  my  own 
It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  done  so ;  and  I  was 
supported.  Marguerite's  last  words  rushed  into  my 
mind — "  stand  fast  in  your  purity,  and  God  will  deliv- 
er you" — and  I  resolved,  through  Divine  assistance,  tc 
abide  every  trial,  rather  than  thus  to  be  sacrificed  bv 
those  panders  of  iniquity.  The  odious  hag  remained 
about  four  days.  All  that  ingenuity  could  davise  was 
attempted,  to  induce  my  compliance  with  the  Pretre's 
desire.  When  coaxing  failed,  every  menace  which 
revenge,  authority  and  disappointment  could  denounce; 
was  not  less  ineffectually  applied.  She  finally  left  me 
completely  in  the  power  of  a  monster,  of  whose  nefa 
nous  designs,  unawares  to  them,  1  had  become  fully 
apprized. 

"  Several  days  he  tormented  me  with  his  wicked  pro 
posals  and  forced  caresses.  He  adduced  all  the  varied 
deceptions  which  Marguerite  had  detailed.  He  boasted 
of  the  authority  of  his  Church,  the  blessedness  of  his 
absolution,  the  comfort  of  enjoying  a  Priest's  favor, 
and  the  satisfaction  of  a  Nun's  life,  with  its  glorious 
reward.  His  blasphemy  repelled  me  as  much  as  his 
obscenity.  My  reply  was  short,  but  peremptory — Ci  I 
will  never  consent  to  your  base  design." 

"  On  the  eighth  day  after  the  woman  who  conducted 
me  had  left  us,  a  letter  w  as  delivered  to  me,  written  by 
?he  same  person  who  has  addressed  you  this  evening 


63 


The  substance  of  it,  as  you  may  easily  suppose,  was  to 
persuade  me  to  submit  to  the  Priest's  wishes ;  for  he 
would  have  his  way,  and  longer  resistance  would  only 
make  it  the  more  painful  for  me.  It  was  closed  in  the 
very  same  words — ?  Do  not  offend  the  Priests.  Be- 
lieve what  they  tell  you.  Do  just  as  they  say  :  and 
all  will  yet  be  well."  During  two  or  three  following 
days  he  desisted  from  his  importunities,  but  he  still 
distressed  and  insulted  me  with  his  pretended  endear- 
ments. He  was  allowing  me  not  only  an  opportu- 
nity to  consider  the  contents  of  the  letter,  but  also  to 
be  assured  from  the  testimony  of  my  eyes  and  ears,  ac- 
cording to  Marguerite's  debasing  account  that  young 
women  and  those  of  our  sex  who  possess  any  influence 
in  society  are  often  merely  unconscious  instruments  to 
execute  the  Cure's  designs.  The  females  doubtless  sup- 
posed,  that  they  and  the  Pretre  were  concealed  from 
all  human  observation  ;  yet  the  grossest  acts  of  disso- 
luteness were  performed,  where  I  could  not  but  under- 
stand them,  expressly  to  influence  my  mind  to  yield  to 
the  impression,  that  as  these  private  matters  could  not 
be  suspected,  and  much  less  known  to  the  world,  they 
produced  no  disgrace,  and  therefore,  that  it  was  folly, 
and  useless  for  me,  not  to  conform  to  what  was  obviously 
general  and  established  usage. 

u  Four  or  five  days  before  you  found  me,  the  Pretre 
was  visited  by  some  of  the  Habitaus,  to  whom  he  com 
municated,  that  on  the  following  Sunday,  immediately 
after  Mass.  he  should  go  to  Quebec  on  business  of  im 
portance  to  the  Church  ;  that  he  should  not  return  until 


64 

die  day  before  the  festival,  and  that  he  should  leave  a 
woman  named  Guise,  to  take  care  of  his  house.  From 
ihat  time  until  the  following  Saturday,  I  suffered  every 
variety  of  anguish.  His  conduct  was  indescribable.  By 
oraftyallurementsatone  time,  by  the  most  intimidating 
threats  at  another,  by  urging  the  duty  of  obedience  to 
his  priestly  authority,  and  by  reminding  me  of  the 
scenes  and  examples  which  my  situation  had  compel 
led  me  to  witness :  sometimes  insulting  me  with  his 
indecent  familiarities ;  and  at  other  times,  almost  pro 
ceeding  to  the  brutal  violence  of  superior  force — so  thai 
upon  one  occasion,  had  I  not  been  endowed  with  unu- 
sual energy  to  resist  his  assault,  he  would  have  consum- 
mated his  horrid  purpose.  I  had  no  rest  by  day,  and 
was  afraid  to  sleep  by  night,  as  the  ruffian  was  always 
on  the  watch  to  take  advantage  of  any  moment,  when 
[  was  unprepared  to  repel  his  atrocious  attempts. 

He  had  appointed  the  Saturday  evening  for  his  tool 
to  arrive,  that  he  might  direct  her  how  to  act  during  his 
absence.  When  she  appeared,  my  whole  soul  abhorred 
her  sensual,  witch-like  countenance.  She  was  well  tu- 
tored for  the  task.  I  was  represented  to  be  a  girl  out 
of  her  mind  ;  who  had  been  sent  to  him  by  a  family 
relative,  to  provide  an  asylum  for  me  in  Quebec,  and 
that  was  the  reason  of  his  journey.  He  also  stated. 
that  I  was  perfectly,  inoffensive  and  peaceable  ;  and 
only  commanded  her  carefully  to  watch  me.  The 
minions  of  his  wickedness  pleaded  that  she  could  not 
stay  in  the  house  alone.  "  I  shall  be  scared  out  of  my 
wits  too — said  Guise — your  reverence  must,  let  me  g< 


65 

away  at  night.     I  will  take  care  that  the  poor  giri 
^hali  do  no  harm." 

u  This  produced  a  long  altercation,  but  the  Pretre 
iinally  was  obliged  to  consent*  He  supposed  that  I  was 
ignorant  of  this  arrangement  ;  and  presuming  upon 
his  power  over  me,  and  the  safety  of  the  dungeon 
in  which  I  uas  immured,  for  the  only  window  in  the 
?oom  was  effectually  barred  without,  so  as  to  preclude 
all  escape  ;  he  perceived  no  other  mode  to  retain  his 
prisoner,  than  by  complying  wilh  Guise's  obstinacy 
To  have  confided  the  secret  of  my  presence  even  to 
his  Sacristan,  was  fraught  with  the  greatest  risk ;  as  ma 
ny  of  the  Seigniors,  although  they  nominally  adhere  to 
the  church,  are  known  secretly  to  despise  their  ceremo- 
nies, and  t©  abhor  the  priests ;  and  through  a  man's  un 
willingness  to  aid  in  the  infliction  of  unalterable  misery 
upon  a  young  woman,  which  might  be  communicated 
to  the  Seignior,  the  Sacristan  could  not  be  trusted. 
He  contrived  to  despatch  the  woman  away,  under  some 
pretext,  in  the  evening,  and  then  disclosed  all  his  base 
design.  He  was  going  to  Quebec  ;  and  while  there. 
he  should  arrange  the  plan  for  my  removal  to  the  Nun- 
nery speedily  after  the  holidays.  "  I  shall  return  next 
Tuesday — said  the  Pretre — and  remember — uttering  a 
most  dreadful  execration,  with  a  petrifying  look  of  ma 
fi^nant  sensuality ;  which  even  now  fills  me  with  horror 

-even  if  you  die,  (hat  night  you  shall  be  mine." 

u  Never — I  angrily  replied — upon  no  pretext,  through 


ao  artifice  by  no  force,  will  I  yield  myself  to  yo;tr 
desires." 

"  He  merely  added — "  Nous  verrons,  we  shall  see"— 
*nd  left  me.  The  loathed  Guise  was  my  companion 
for  the  night 

"  In  my  dreaming  drowsiness,  as  well  as  when  I  was 
t\illy  awake,  my  head  was  filled  with  manoeuvres  and 
contrivances.  My  roving  imagination  pondered  upon 
zvery  variety  of  stratagem,  by  which  I  might  avoid  the 
calamity  that  impended  over  me.  My  aversion  to  the 
Nunnery  became  an  additional  incentive;  and  I  resolved 
never  again  to  enter  that  polluted  woful  region,  unless  by 
force.  I  frequently  was  startled  in  the  night  to  rational 
Recollection,  from  the  strong  excitement  of  my  mind  ;  but 
1  could  retrace  nothing,  except  an  indistinct  comfortable 
feeling,  which  encouraged  a  hope  of  yet  eluding  the 
Pretre's  grasp. 

"  This  expectation,  however,  was  quelled,  when  in 
Lhe  morning  I  discovered,  that  every  article  of  my  cloth 
ing  had  disappeared  except  my  house  dress.  Conse- 
quently, even  if  it  were  possible  to  fly,  the  coldness  of 
the  weather  would  speedily  terminate  my  sorrows  ;  and 
I  shuddered  at  the  idea  of  freezing  to  death.  While 
the  Priest  and  his  imp  were  at  mass,  I  made  a  discov- 
ery which  became  the  main  spring  of  my  elopement 
Guise  had  arrived  the  night  before  in  her  usual  com- 
mon clothes,  having  brought  her  extra  Sunday  apparel 
The  same  bonnet  and  cloak  which  you  found  with 


67 

ibis  shawl  and  the  rnoccasons,  were  laid  aside,  jig 
doubt,  to  be  resumed  on  Monday.  As  soon  as  mass  wae 
finished,  the  Pretre  departed.  I  heard  him  direct  Guise 
to  take  care,  when  she  left  the  house  in  the  evening, 
not  to  go  away  very  early,  to  leave  no  candle,  and  to 
be  careful  thai  the  outside  door,  and  the  door  leading 
to  the  sacristy,  and  especially  the  entrance  to  the  stair 
case,  were  all  safely  locked  and  bolted  :  so  that  my 
dungeon  should  be  secure.  As  he  went  out  of  the 
room  to  his  carriole,  he  cast  his  gloating  eyes  upon  me, 
and  having  said — "  Au  revoir" — to  my  inexpressible 
delight,  the  Jesuit  and  one  of  his  young  dependant? 
drove  off,  and  soou  disappeared. 

u  I  had  hoped  to  have  made  use  of  the  woman  in 
some  mode  to  aid  my  design  ;  but  she  was  not  less  in- 
tractable towards  me,  than  obstinate  with  the  Priest. 
When  I  spoke  to  her,  she  would  look  at  me  with  dis- 
dain— "  Pauvre  miserable,  poor  wretch" — this  was  her 
sole  reply.  I  attempted  to  soften  her  by  kind  and 
flattering  language,  but  all  was  ineffectual.  She  mut- 
tered to  herself  in  soliloquy ;  avowing  her  unwilling- 
ness  to  stay  after  dark ;  her  wish  to  have  a  man 
in  the  house ;  and  a  numoer  of  other  sinJlar  com- 
plaints. When  she  paused  ;  I  would  interpose  and  de- 
dare  ;  "  You  must  not  go  away.  You  must  not  leave 
me.  If  any  persons  come  to  the  house,  I  will  go  out 
*o  them — I  will  not  stop  here  by  myself." 

"To  comfort  and  deceive  me,  as  she  thought,  she 
would  reply — "  1  will  stay  with  you.  I  will  lock  all 
thp  doors  early  at  night.     We  will  take  a  long  sleep.' 


68 

"  I  perceived  her  artifice,  but  it  fully  answered  my 
purpose.  Several  persons  came  to  the  Priest's  house 
in  the  afternoon.  I  was  thrust  into  my  own  apart 
ment ;  but  as  Guise  suspected  that  I  should  be  listen 
ing,  she  avowed  tier  intention  of  staying  all  night,  and 
also  of  procuring  some  woman  of  the  neighborhood  to 
keep  her  company.  After  some  of  her  visitors  had  re 
tired,  I  heard  her  move  towards  my  door  I  pretended 
to  be  asleep,  as  she  came  into  the  room.  Convinced 
that  I  was  insensible  to  their  conversation,  upon  her 
return  to  her  companions,  I  heard  her  promise  a 
man  to  accompany  him  to  a  great  dance,  which  was 
to  be  held  that  evening  about  three  miles  distant.  He 
engaged  to  bring  his  carriole  at  eight  o'clock,  and  drive 
her  back  by  day-light. 

"  When  all  her  associates  had  left  her ;  Guise  began 
to  make  her  preparations  for  the  night.  She  filled  the 
fire-place  with  wood  ;  and  arranged  every  little  conve- 
nience, in  case,  as  she  said,  I  should  want  any  thing  in 
the  night.  I  was  delighted  to  find  that  the  bread  was 
not  removed ,  out  of  the  sitting  room  ;  and  that  she 
seemed  to  have  forgotton  her  common  dress.  You 
must  remember  that  the  Sunday  afternoon  was  stormy  ; 
and  this  furnished  Guise  with  an  excuse  for  retiiing 
to  rest  at  an  early  hour.  The  bells  of  the  passing  car 
doles,  I  suppose,  were  the  signal  by  which  she  pro 
posed  that  we  should  lay  down  for  the  night.  She 
had  disposed  a  pallet  for  herself  in  the  exterior  room; 
and  when  I  had  noticed  the  exact  place  of  the  va- 
rious articles,  I  partially  disrobed,  and  apparently  re- 
signed myself  to  sleep.     After  a  short  period,  supp© 


69 

sing  me  to  be  unconscious  ef  her  plans ;  she  cautiously 
lighted  the  can  lie,  and  approaching  my  bed,  as  she 
perceived  no  symptoms  of  wakefulness — "  Pauvre  mis- 
erable !  poor  wretch  V — said  the  callous  miscreant,  for 
now  I  have  no  doubt  that  she  Was  privy  to  the  whole 
conspiracy  :  and  then  began  to  array  herself  for  the 
frolic.  By  the  reflection  of  the  light,  I  soon  ascertain* 
ed,  that  her  meaner  apparel  was  still  where  she  first 
had  laid  it,  and  that  she  was  ready  to  depart.  She  did 
not  wait  long  before  a  flight  knock  at  the  door  intima- 
ted the  arrival  of  her  partner.  She  then  filled  the 
stove,  secured  it  from  danger,  surveyed  all  the  doors, 
once  more  examined  me,  and  then  withdrew,  locking 
me  in,  to  dark  ness,  silence,  and  solitude  Surely  nothing 
but  Divine  goodness  and  mercy,  and  the  hope  that  my 
plan  to  escape  would  succeed,  supported  me  at  that 
fearful  moment.  My  heart  sunk  down  like  lead  within 
me,  when  I  heard  the  external  door  closed,  and  the 
carriole  driven  away ;  thus  leaving  me,  as  it  were,  in- 
fombed  alive  in  that  above-ground  sepulchre.  I  hastily 
arose,  commended  myself  to  God's  protection  in  broken 
but  sincere  and  earnest  prayer ;  and  felt  inspired  with 
<he  resolution  to  seize  the  opportunity  of  escape,  and 
jisk  all  consequences ;  as  I  conceived,  that  no  possible 
wil  could  befal  me,  worse  than  tho  calamity  with 
which  the  Jesuit  threatened  me. 

u  The  jcanioles  continued  to  pass  for  awhile  ]  aftei 
?vhich  a  tiresome,  appalling  dreariness  almost  benum- 
bed my  faculties,  and  made  me  hesitate  respecting 
'he  fulfilment  of  my  intention.     Amid  the  sfiTfm»ss  of 
6* 


70 

the  night,  and  the  exercises  of  impatient  alarm,  it  is  im- 
possible to  calculate  the  progress  of  lime.  Its  first  sen- 
sible lapse  that  I  realized,  was  in  the  feeling  of  chilli- 
ness, for  the  fire  had  gradually  subsided,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  increase  the  heat.  This  stimulated  my 
nerves,  and  I  begair  to  recover  fortitude  for  the  dan= 
gerous  effort.  The  window  of  the  sitting-room  wa* 
not  secured  by  a  crate,  and  by  it,  I  hoped  to  escape. 

"  The  scene  without  was  not  only  sombre,  but  ter 
rifle.     The  moon  had  set  for  some  time,  and  I  there- 
fore knew  that  it  must  be  considerably  past  midnight 
The  wind  was  sufficiently  strong  occasionally  to  drift 
the  snow,  and  every  thing  declared  the  impossibility  of 
surviving  the  night  in  the  open  air.     After  repeated 
surveys,  I  ascertained,  that  there  would  be  little  diffi- 
culty to  reach  the  ground,  with  the  help  of  the  bed 
coverings  securely  tied ;  as  the  flat,  according  to  the 
country   custom,  was  only  a  few  feet  high.     I  pu^ 
on  Guise's  trappings,  and  employed  myself  leisurely  in 
forcing  open  the  window  shutter  which  had  been  fas- 
fened  without,  and  in  securing  the  means  of  descent ; 
as  I  resolved  to  postpone  my  actual  departure,  until  I 
could  perceive  a  fire  in  one  of  the  surrounding  habita- 
tions •  because  I  knew  that  Guise  would  not  leave  the 
frolic  until   nearly  day-light.     While  thus  engaged 
and  anxiously  watching,  a  carriole  drove  up  near  to 
£he  house,  and  I  indistinctly  discovered  three  person* 
approaching  the  entrance. 

'A  short  conversation  ensued-     They  were  consult- 


71 

mg  upon  the  expediency  of  purloining  the  Priests 
treasure ;  and  as  he  was  away,  and  discovery  impossi- 
ble, it  was  determined  that  they  would  make  the 
attempt.  I  knew  not  how  to  decide.  A  moment  only 
was  left  for  deliberation.  I  resolved  to  trust  to  their 
honor,  and  request  their  aid  to  effect  my  escape.  The 
doors  were  speedily  opened,  and  two  young  men  hur 
ried  up  the  stairs.  They  possessed  a  concealed  light, 
and  upon  entering  my  room,  were  alarmed  at  seeing  me 
One  of  them  rushed  upon  me,  and  threatened  me  with 
instant  death,  if  I  made  any  noise.  I  threw  back  my 
bonnet,  and  when  instead  of  Guise,  he  perceived  a 
young  woman  alone— "  Tres  bien  !—  said  he— very 
well ;  here  is  a  good  prize  for  us  ;  the  Pretre  contrives 
to  pick  out  good  company — who  are  you?" 

r  I  am  a  stranger— was  my  reply— decoyed  here  for 
a  bad  design  ;  and  was  just  going  to  escape  out  of  the 
window,  when  I  heard  your  carriole  approach.  Only 
aid  my  flight  from  this  place.  I  will  not  tell  your 
secret.''5 

"  Boa  !  good— he  replied,  addressing  his  companion 

we  always  thought  the  Cure  had  a  good  reason  for 

never  permitting  a  visitor  to  go  up  stairs.     So  this  is 

his  female  department.     We  will  spoil  the  old  coquin's 

fricks,  for  a  while." 

'They  easily  discovered  and  secured  the  Priests 
uiouey.  He  who  first  saw  me,  then  took  me  by  the 
arm— "Vite!—  said  he— ii  faut  partir;  Quick!  we 
must  go." 


72 

:{ I  know  not  how  I  descended  the  stair-case.  Wr 
entered  the  carriole,  and  he  drove  away  to  a  short  dis- 
tance, where  we  could  be  concealed  from  notice.  He 
added — "  li  faut  s'arreter  ici  un  pen  ;  we  must  wait 
here  a  little." 

"Our  contract  was  soon  made.  He  promised  te 
drive  me  as  far  as  he  could  go  with  his  horse,  before 
the  afternoon;  and  as  I  knew  neither  him  nor  his  com- 
panions, and  so  dreaded  all  discovery,  they  feared  no 
exposure  from  me.  Suddenly  a  blaze  of  light  appear- 
ed— "ils  ont  raison  ;  they  are  right — said  my  guar- 
dian— Guise  will  be  blamed  for  the  whole  misfortune, r 

"It  is  impossible  to  say  what  I  felt,  when  I  turned 
and  saw  my  prison  on  fire.  Two  young  men  instantly 
rejoined  us.  A  short  circuit  was  made  that  con- 
ducted us  back  into  the  direct  road  which  led  from  the 
house  where  the  dance  was  held  ;  and  immediately 
they  began  to  vociferate,  '*  Fire  !  fire  !  "-—They  ran  to 
the  houses  to  awaken  the  neighboring  inhabitants 
The  carriole  passed  the  Church,  and  remained  station- 
ary  at  a  short  distance  from  the  scene.  The  Sacristan 
soon  rang  the  alarm-bell.  All  the  affrighted  habitans 
blamed  Guise  for  the  fire;  because  every  door  was  safe; 
and  an  entrance  was  only  made  by  force.  The  Pre 
fre's. furniture  which  was  unburnt  was  thrown  into  the 
jroad,  and  the  house  was  completely  emptied.  Within 
a  few  minutes  from  the  ringing  of  the  bell,  moving 
fights  were  seen  in  every  direction — "  Allons !  come"-— 
3aid  our  Charioteer.  His  confederates  immediately 
-returned.     They  had  only  waited  to  see  the  boose  gut- 


73 

ted  by  the  Sacristan  and  his  helpers.  As  soon  as  the 
screaming  crowd  from  the  dance  arrived  near  the  spot, 
we  commenced  travelling  at  a  rapid  rate  away  from 
the  vile  Cure's  prison." 

"  What  direction  we  went,  I  know  not ;  nor  was  it  o5 
any  consequence.  The  only  intimation  which  I  had 
of  our  course  was  from  the  first  streak  of  day  appearing 
nearly  in  front  of  us — thus  inducing  me  to  suppose  that 
we  were  travelling  towards  Quebec.  The  dark  ride 
was  enlivened  by  their  conversation,  and  although  my 
sense  of  justice  condemned  their  ill-gotten  spoils  ;  yet  I 
eould  not  heartily  disapprove  of  a  measure,  by  which  I 
had  been  so  joyfully  rescued  from  immediate  ruin. 
Their  whole  talk  was  a  specimen  of  reckless  raillery, 
respecting  the  manner  in  which  they  would  confess 
their  sin,  and  buy  the  Pretre's  pardon  with  his  own 
money  :  or  in  case  of  necessity,  they  declared  they 
would  threaten  the  Priest  with  an  exposure  of  his  con 
cealed  female  companions. 

"  I  will  confess  to  the  Cure — said  Jacques — I  am 
afraid  some  crowns  which  were  paid  me  in  Quebec 
were  part  of  his  holy  money  ;  and  upon  condition  of  his 
pardoning  all  my  sins,  that  he  shall  have  them.  O  ! 
how  he  will  praise  my  love  of  the  Church,  and  my  ten 
der  conscience." 

Cela  n'est  pas  bon  ;  that  will  not  do — replied  Pierre— 
1  will  go  and  pray  him  to  pardon  me  for  being  at  the 
dance  on  a  Sunday;  and  then  tell  him,  that  had  it  not 


74 

been  for  me,  the  whole  of  his  property  would  have  been 
burnt.  *  Who  first  went  into  the  house  ?  will  be  his 
question.  I  shall  answer — 'the  Sacristan'. — 'Where 
was  the  strongest  part  of  the  fire  V  will  the  Pretre  de- 
mand. I  shall  reply — {  In  the  upper  rooms.'  Who 
opened  the  closet  and  took  out  the  contents  V  will  he 
desire  to  know.  l  Ah,  Monsieur  !  will  I  say — Je  ne  sais 
pas,  I  know  not.  That  was  burnt  out  before  I  could 
get  to  the  fire.'  Then  he  will  shake  his  head  at  his 
loss,  praise  my  diligence,  pardon  all  my  sins,  and  give 
me  his  blessing  ;  but  if  it  was  worth  one  sous  he  would 
not  bestow  it  without  being  paid  for  it." 

"  Vous  ne  faites  rien ;  you  are  good  for  nothing  at  all, 
— affirmed  Francois,  the  driver — I  will  go  to  him — 
*  Ah,  Monsieur,  je  suis  bien  fache  de  vos  pertes  ;  Ah, 
Sir!  X  am  sorry  for  your  loss!  This  will  obtain  his 
smile.  '  Mais,  Monsieur,  on  dit'—  but,  Sir,  they  say' — 
In  an  angry  tone  he  will  cry  out — '  Qu'est  ce  qu  'on 
dit  ?  What  do  they  say.  '  Pardonnez  moi  ;  pardon 
me' — I  shall  reply.  He  will  insist ;  and  I  shall  oppose, 
until  at  last  1  shall  inform  him,  that  Guise  arrived  at 
the  fire  just  as  it  was  extinguished,  and  asked  if  any 
person  had  seen  a  young  wom&n  about  the  fire  ;  tl  at 
we  all  said,  No.  That  she  continued  to  repeat, 
(  Pauvre  miserable  ;  poor  wretch  !' — so  that,  they  say, 
there  was  a  girl  burnt  up  in  the  fire. — "  Who  says  so  T 
will  he  demand.  '  All  the  people  say — will  I  reply- 
that  they  heard  Guise  lamenting  to  herself  over  a 
pauvre  miserable  ;  and  that  she  often  says,  it  was  bet- 
ter to  jump  out  of  the  window  into  the  snow,  than  to  be 


78 

burnt  in  a  house.  'Prenez  garde,  take  care  ;  will  tnc 
Pretre  reply— contradict  that  story.'  Upon  which 
I  shall  promise  him  obedience,  and  he  will  grant  me 
pleniere  indulgence,  full  indulgence  for  a  year." 

"  What  is  the  Pretre's  name,  and  what  do  they  call 
-the  place  ?"  1  asked. — "  Do  you  not  know  the  Pretre'e 
name  ?"  said  Francois. — "  No,  was  my  reply — I  know 
neither  his  name,  nor  what  they  call  the  village/' — 
ft  Tant  mieux  :  so  much  the  better— answered  Fran 


oois— then  we  are  safe." 

Of  the  Priest's  reported  tricks,  avarice,  and  dissc- 
futeness,  they  detailed,  I  suppose,  all  which  they  knew 
Their  conversation  proved  to  me  ;  that  of  good  princi 
yles,  they  themselves  had  very  little  idea  ;  that  they 
considered  all  religion  to  be  a  farce,  in  which  the  Priest 
enacted  the  chief  character  ;  and  that  to  rob  the  Cures 
was  only  doing  in  another  form  the  very  same  thefts 
Which  they  always  practised.  Every  thing  which 
they  mentioned  confirmed  my  abhorrence  both  of  the 
Priests  and  their  system.  How  long  we  had  continued 
to  ride,  or  what  distance  we  had  come,  I  know  not  j 
and  when  they  understood  my  ignorance  of  the  Priest's 
name  and  of  the  spot,  they  would  not  answer  any 
question  by  which  I  could  ever  know  either,  so  Xhat 
they  might  elude  all  suspicion  and  discovery.  Who 
were  my  fellow  travellers,  or  where  we  were  going, 
was  equally  a  mystery.  The  cloudiness  of  the  morn 
ing  also  interrupted  any  distant  view  ;  but  sometime 
softer   day-light,  we  stopped  at  a  house  to   breakfast 


re 

There,  during  the  interval  of 'preparation,  the  Priests 
spoilers  divided  their  prey.  They  obtained  a  large 
booty,  and  offered  me  an  equal  part,  which  I  refused, 
But  when  they  heard,  that  the  old  coquin,  as  they 
termed  the  priest,  had  stolen  my  clothing  and  that  I 
was  pennyless,  they  insisted  that  I  should  accept  a 
^mall  sum  as  a  present  from  themselves,  independent  of 
heir  good  and  lawful  prize,  as  they  jocularly  termed  the 
Priest's  louis  d'ors,  to  keep  me  from  immediate  want 
I  ill  I  could  find  a  refuge. 

(i  During  the  breakfast,  an  inquiry  was  made- 
how  shall  we  direct  our  course  ?"  It  was  proposed  to 
proceed  by  Point  aux  Trembles  to  Quebec.  To  this 
course  I  decidedly  objected,  and  told  them,  that  I  was 
known  there,  and  should  be  discovered.  They  there- 
fore determined  to  take  the  interior  route  by  Lorette, 
and  leave  me  where  1  pleased. 

We  again  stopped  for  dinner:  and  before  sun-set,  about 
a  mile  from  the  Indian  village,  we  finally  separated. 
When  the  carriole,  with  my  deliverers,  had  fully  disap' 
peared,  I  once  more  felt  my  forlorn  situation.  Knowing 
Chat  every  stranger  is  a  curiosity  to  the  habitans,  and  that 
if  the  Cure  is  at  home,  the  smallest  novelty  is  immediate- 
ly revealed  to  him  ,  I  dreaded  exposure,  and  yet  dared 
not  intrust  myself  with  persons  unknown  in  a  carriole, 
even  had  one  passed  me.  To  stay  in  the  snow  during 
a  December  night  was  certain  death.  I  wandered 
along  the  road,  scarcely  conscious  of  my  movements 
until  night  had  completely  set  in  ;  when  upon  looking 


7? 

around  me,  I  perceived  by  the  moon,  that  I  bad  diverg 
sd  from  the  road  to  Quebec  towards  the  mountain.  I 
felt  a  numbness  creeping  over  me,  which,  as  soon  as  I 
began  to  reflect,  warned  me  of  my  danger,  and  I  in- 
stantly exerted  all  my  energies,  and  hastened  to  retrace 
my  course.  The  exercise  was  salutary  ;  but  when  I 
arrived  at  the  village,  my  dilemma  continued  the  same 
I  could  not  directly  appeal  for  a  night's  lodging  to  the 
Indians.  JNo  means  of  escape  were  present  to  my  view 
My  fortitude  left  me.  I  forgot  the  Almighty  Refuge 
I  retraced  the  past  with  horror  ;  and  the  future  I  dread 
ed.  I  felt  as  a  worm  trodden  under  foot,  and  crushed 
to  the  earth.  In  my  own  apprehension,  I  was  a  per- 
fectly isolated  human  being.  I  could  not  claim  a 
friend — and  all  the  men  and  women  whom  I  knew, 
except  my  deliverers  from  the  Pretre's  house,  seemed  to 
be  leagued  in  a  conspiracy  against  my  personal  parity 
and  peace. 

In  this  agitated  state  of  mind,  I  wandered  to  and  fro. 
The  light  which  the  evening  before  had  directed  me  to 
a  God  of  mercy  was  not  perceptible.  In  the  pungency 
of  my  bitterness,  I  had  forgotten  the  Almighty  arm, 
which  had  interposed  for  my  deliverance,  without  per- 
mitting me  to  perpetrate  the  scheme  that  l  had  once 
intended,  for  had  no  other  means  been  practicable,  I 
had  resolved  to  set  fire  to  the  house  and  escape  in  th/t 
confusion.  In  this  wretchedness,  I  walked  along  the 
main  road,  and  as  far  as  I  can  retrace  my  impressions^ 
determined  that  I  would  be  impelled  by  circumstances 
as  they  might  arise.     The  sound  of  the  waters  and  the 

7 


sight  of  the  foam  bewildered  my  imagination  ;  and  I 
thought,  that  death  or  life  was  of  equal  moment,  as  no 
person  on  earth  was  interested  in  me.  This  is  my  last 
existing  distinct  recollection.  I  was  then  standing  near 
the  Church  at  Lorette.  Of  all  the  rest,  I  am  totally 
unconscious,  until  I  became  sufficiently  restored  tc 
hear  your  story,  to  thank  you  for  your  benevolence, 
and  to  praise  God  for  my  preservation." 

Chretien,  who  had  betrayed  most  emotion,  as  Louise 
unfolded  her  melancholy  narrative,  first  interrupted 
the  silence  which  ensued  after  she  had  closed — "  If  I 
thought  that  such  sinfulness  existed — he  remarked — 
I  would  forswear  the  Priests  and  their  corrupt  religion 
forever." 

n  What  have  you  ever  seen  in  me — asked  Louise, 
with  great  dignity  and  pathos — which  should  induce 
you,  Chretien,  to  doubt  my  painful  tale  ?" 

"  Nothing  at  all,  dear  Louise—  he  replied— but  this 
wickedness  seems  so  incredible,  that  one  demands 
strong  testimony  to  overcome  our  doubts." 

"  This  only  proves  what  I  said  before — interposed 
Diganu — but  what  evidence  will  satisfy  you,  that  the 
Priest  who  has  been  the  tormentor  of  Louise  is  also 
now  concerned  in  this  mystery ;  and  that  he  is  the 
strange  Pretre  who  visited  us  ?  Will  Louise's  positive 
recognition  of  him,  as  well  as  of  the  same  hand  writing 
in  the  two  letters,  convince  you  ?" 


79 

a. I  will  believe — answered  Chietien— =every  thing 
'hat  Louise  has  said,  if  the  Priest  who  visited  us  the 
other  day  appears  to-morrow  at  Lorette." 

"  Nous  verrons ;  we  shall  see" — remarked  Louise ; 
and  speedily  left  her  friends  to  prepare  for  the  antici- 
pated contingencies  of  the  eventful  morning,  so  anx- 
iously desired,  and  yet  so  deeply  dreaded,  by   Diganu 


LORETTE 


The  hopes,  the  dreams  of  former  days. 
Which  once  did  cheer  life's  gloom. 

Arise  before  my  tearful  gaze, 
Like  spectres  from  the  tomb. 

As  mall  party  of  their  acquaintances  had  been  invited 
to  accompany  Diganu,  Louise,  and  Curetien  to  Lorettej 
who  were  not  apprized  of  their  intended  marriage.  In 
case  of  any  emergency,  they  were  selected  as -witness- 
es and  defenders.  Louise  appeared  in  the  same  dress, 
except  that  Guise's  winter  apparel,  being  then  unsea- 
sonable, was  discarded.  After  they  had  breakfasted; 
cshe  retired,  to  commend  herself  to  God,  and  his  fatherly 
grace  and  protection.  When  their  friends  began  to 
assemble,  Louise  requested  to  see  Diganu  and  Chretien 
alone. 

u  I  most  sincerely  thank  you,  Chretien — Louise  ten- 
derly remarked — for  all  your  kindness  to  me.  I  know 
that  wTe  shall  see  each  other  no  more  after  this  morn- 
ing  ;  but  be  assured,  that  the  remembrance  of  youi 
friendship  will  remain  as  long  as  memory  endures,  and 
Will  ever  be  mingled  with  the  hope  of  meeting  you  in 
*hat  world  were  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,'' 


SI 

a  Your  anticipations,  my  dear  Louise,  are  too  som- 
bre— answered  Chretien — once  already  have  you  been 
partly  rescued  from  misery,  and  I  hope  this  day  will 
witness  your  complete  deliverance." 

She  offered  him  her  hand  in  friendly  salutation, 
with  a  melancholy  shade  oi  features,  totally  different 
from  a  bride's  ordinary  expressive  glow,  and  then 
addressed  her  betrothed.  "All  that  is  in  my  trunk. 
Diganu — said  Louise — is  rightfully  yours,  and  to  yon 
I  restore  it.  But  this  I  present  you  as  my  only  relic 
and  my  most  precious  remembrancer — giving  him  her 
Bible — I  foresee  that  you  will  value  it  for  my  sake 
Believe  in  it  as  I  do.  I  trust  that  you  will  derive  conso- 
lation from  it  as  I  have  done ;  and  as  I  expect  never 
more  to  return  to  this  house,  it  will  be  the  best  me 
mento  of  your  Louise." 

The  feeling  was  so  oppressive,  that  she  sunk  into 
a  chair.  But  having  recovered  her  composure,  she 
knelt  down  and  prayed  to  the  Father  of  mercies  for  her 
friends,  and  for  her  own  preservation.  At  the  close  of 
her  short  devotions,  Louise  felt  re-assured,  and  re- 
marked to  Chretien — "  if  we  meet  any  persons  to-dar 
whom  I  know  I  will  inform  you." 

Diganu  interposed — "  I  cannot  go  to  Lorette  ;  im 
Iieart  is  too  overpowered  with  alarm." 

"  N'importe  ;  no  matter—  replied  Louise— thus  to 
jive  and  be  tantalized  is  a  lingering  consumption  ;  it  is 

7* 


82 

preferable  to  ascertain  the  final  result.  I  love  you 
Diganu,  as  a  sister  might,  most  tenderly  ;  for  your  kincU 
ness,  your  sympathy,  and  your  virtues ;  but  inexplica- 
ble as  is  the  fact,  I  never  had  the  slightest  connubial 
attachment  or  inclination  for  you. 

"  This  is  truly  astonishing — subjoined  Diganu — 
there  is  something  so  attractive  and  so  repulsive  in  all 
your  words,  actions  and  character,  that  I  accede  to  your 
wishes,  gloomy  as  is  the  prospect.  We  will  be  tortur- 
ad  thus  no  longer.  Either  we  will  live  together  insep- 
arable, or  we  will  know  the  mysterious  connection 
which  see  ns  both  to  unite  and  to  divide  us."' 

Their  mutual  pungency,  which  flowed  from  the  evils 
.hat  the  friends  foreboded,  was  partly  alleviated  during 
The  ride  from  Quebec  to  Lorette,  by  the  consolatory  pic- 
ture which  Louise  drew  of  her  christian  exercises,  her 
resignation  and  hope  in  God,  her  resolutions  of  sted- 
lastness,  and  in  her  meek  exultation,  that  her  purblind 
instructions  had  been  so  far  efficacious  through  the 
Divine  blessing,  in  enlightening  Diganu,  that  she 
doubted  not  he  would  become  a  sincere  believer  in 
Jesus,  the  Son  of  God  ;  and  she  charged  him  to  stud3r 
that  blessed  book,  her  Bible.  Cl  But— said  Diganu. 
interrupting  her — why  did  you  not  retain  it  for  yom 


u  What  use  could  I  make  of  it  ?— added  Louise — if  I 
am  forcibly  separated  from  you,  my  enemies  would  de- 
.^4oy  it.  and  persecute  me  the  more  for  having  found  it 


33 

f 

in  my  possession ;  but  if  I  return  to  duebec  with  yoUj 
dearest — and  she  cast  upon  hits  a  placid  smile,  which 
Diganu  ever  after  dwelt  upon  with  indescribable  emo- 
tions— then  we  shall  study  it  together.  But  as  I  do  not 
expect  this  result,  I  have  provided  for  the  consequences, 
A  large  portion  of  its  holy  contents  I  have  treasured  up 
in  ray  memory,  as  an  antidote  to  error,  an  incentive 
to  obedience,  and  a  fountain  of  comfort." 

The  elevation  and  spirituality  of  the  topics  to  which 
they  had  attended  during  the  latter  part  of  the  journey, 
were  peculiarly  appropriate,  and  beneficial  to  their 
agonized  hearts.  It  seemed  to  unite  them  in  a  novel 
tie  ;  and  Louise  was  soothed  by  the  conviction;  that 
Diganu  had  attained  some  Christian  knowledge  and 
stability.  Their  fortitude,  however,  was  again  shaken, 
as  they  approached  Lorette. 

At  the  extremity  of  the  village  the  party  halted,  and 
Chretien  having  informed  their  associates  of  the  object 
of  their  excursion,  proceeded  to  ascertain  if  the  Priest 
was  ready  to  perform  the  ceremony.  Some  of  the  In- 
dians and  their  squaws,  with  the  children,  were  loung 
ing  near  the  entrance  of  the  church,  as  customary,  if 
any  strangers  arrived  or  were  expected.  When  Chre- 
tien inquired  for  the  Priest,  he  was  directed  to  the 
church,  where  he  found  two  Priests,  besides  the  Cure, 
one  of  whom  he  recognized  as  the  same  who  had  visi- 
ted and  threatened  Diganu  ;  the  other  was  unknown 
Two  strange  women  were  also  seated  near  the  altar  ; 
o-nd  on  the  other  side,  the  two  Indian  females  who  had 


34 

nursed  Louise  during  her  abode  at  Lorette.  This  afc 
'ay  portended  evil ;  which  was  not  diminished,  when 
is  he  approached  the  Cure,  who  was  robed  for  the  cere- 
mony, to  inquire  if  the  nuptial  party  might  appear,  the 
Priest,  whom  he  had  before  seen,  exchanged  a  signifi- 
cant and  half-smiling,  but  murky  look,  with  the  othei 
Pretres,  and  the  two  women  who  were  near  them. 

When  he  returned  to  his  friends  Chretien  was  mosi 
painfully  embarrassed — but  to  Louise  and  Diganu,  he 
first  announced  what  persons  he  had  seen  in  the  church 

"  I  anticipated  it — said  Louise,  almost  sinking  to  the 
ground — but  I  am  prepared  for  the  worst.  It  is  the 
will  of  God.  Here,  Chretien — and  she  presented  him 
her  hand — accept  my  last  adieu.  Remember  your 
promise.  You  must  now  believe  all  that  I  have  assert 
ed.  Snap  the  chain  which  has  so  long  fettered  you: 
mind  and  will.  Stand  close  by  me  ;  that  at  least  I 
may  have  time  to  make  known  the  parties,  if  I  should 
secognize  any  of  them.  Comfort  Diganu  in  his  distress 
Cultivate  your  mutual  friendship.  Study  ray  Bible  ! 
Qod  bless  you  !" 

Diganu  stood  like  a  marble  statue.     The  inform*- 
don  had    momentarily  overwhelmed  his  faculties— 
■Diganu,  it  is  too  late — faintly  uttered  Louise,  shud- 
dering as  she  spoke — to  alter  our  plans.     Trust  in  God  ' 
"You  shall  hear  from  me. 

The  Wieners  who  perceived  the  alteration  in  Louis* 


65 

and  Diganu,  pressed  around  to  comfort  them.  It 
became  necessary  therefore  to  admonish  the  party  of 
the  cause  of  their  distress,  and  Chretien  thus  remark- 
ed— "  events  have  recently  occurred  of  a  very  extraor 
dinary  and  perplexing  nature,  and  the  appearance  oi 
some  persons  whom  I  have  seen  in  the  church  has  in- 
creased our  embarrassment/'  The  gentlemen  and 
ladies,  especially  Chretien  and  the  Bride-Maid,  all 
avowed  their  resolution  to  assist,  and  to  oppose  any" 
evil  which  might  be  attempted.  They  stopped  at  thai 
part  of  the  road  where  the  precise  spot  was  in  view 
whence  Louise  had  been  rescued,  and  to  which  they 
all  walked.  There  she  devoutly  blessed  God  for  his 
goodness,  again  expressed  her  gratitude  to  her  preser- 
vers, poured  forth  her  whole  heart  in  a  short  prayer  for 
Diganu  and  Chretien,  and  then  with  slow  and  faltering 
steps,  more  like  the  measured  procession  of  a  funeral, 
than  the  joyous  movements  of  a  wedding,  they  pro 
•ceded  to  the  Church. 

Unknown  to  the  party,  as  soon  as  they  all  had  enter 
ed,  the  principal  door  of  the  church  was  locked.  Louise 
was  veiled,  and  walked  between  Diganu  and  Chretien, 
leaning  on  the  arms  of  both  her  friends.  As  they 
moved  towards  the  altar,  Louise  uttered  a  loud  shriek, 
upon  which  all  her  attendants  stopped.  When  she 
recovered  her  fortitude,  she  remarked,  in  a  whisper,  to 
Diganu  and  Chretien — "The  Priest  on  the  right  of 
the  Cure  is  my  tormentor ;  the  other  I  know  not. 
That  tall  woman  was  my  companion  to  Jacques  Cartier, 
and  I  suppose  on  my  other  journey.  The  other  crea- 
tore  is  Guise." 


S<5 

Presently  they  advanced,  and  the  ceremony  v;at 
about  to  begin  ;  but  the  Priest  who  had  visited  Diganu 
prohibited  the  marriage,  declaring  that  Louise  had 
dedicated  herself  to  the  Church,  and  that  she  could 
not  be  discharged  from  her  vows. 
\ 

This  statement  was  peremptorily  denied  by  Louise, 
Diganu,  and  Chretien,  who  had  dismissed  their  fears, 
and  whom  indignation  had  emboldened  to  resolute 
resistance.  The  Cure  therefore  proceeded — but  during 
his  ceremonial,  the  other  Priests  held  a  shori  consulta- 
tion, and  presently  gave  a  signal  to  the  female  stran 
ger,  who  suddenly  rushed  upon  Louise,  seized  her 
by  the  arm,  and  forbade  the  marriage.  Diganu  and 
Chretien  could  scarcely  master  the  Fury,  so  as  to  retain 
Louise  under  their  protection.  When  she  had  become 
a  little  calmed,  she  turned  to  the  officiating  Priest,  and 
in  a  direful  voice,  cried  out — "  Cease  :  the  marriage  is 
unlawful !     Diganu  and  Louise  are  brother  and  sister  !M 

A  death-like  stupor  instantly  seized  all  the  nuptial 
party.  The  Priest  and  Guise  grinned  with  malicious 
delight — "  <  <ome  here  " — said  the  woman,  addressing 
the  Cure — "  look  at  this  cross  on  her  forehead — turning 
back  her  hair.  She  then  called  upon  their  friends  to 
view  it— u  remember  that  cross,  it  is  a  sign  of  recogni- 
tion imprinted  by  her  Mother." 

Nothing  can  possibly  exceed  the  really  profound  as- 
tonishment  of  the  youthful  friends,  and  the  affected 
surprise  of  the  Cure  at  this  exhibition.     (<  Look  at 


II 

this— continued  the  virago,  pointing  to  Diganu's  head 
— and  who  put  that  mark  on  the  boy  ?  His  Mother  j 
the  same  fingers  inscribed  both." 

Chretien  was  incensed  with  anger,  and  could  not 
restrain  his  feelings — "  Avaunt !  said  he,  pushing  her 
away — if  they  are  Brother  and  Sister,  then  as  Louise  is 
a  friendless  orphan,  Diganu  is  her  rightful  protector ; 
and  shall  be  her  defender  and  supporter,  until  this 
mystery  is  explained  and  their  relationship  is  proved/' 

"He  shall  not" — said  the  two  Priests  together,  and 
instantly  rushed  towards  the  bridal  pair.  Diganu  and 
Louise  had  only  time  to  exchange  the  kiss  of  affection; 
with  her  fervent  "  God  bless  you,  Diganu,  adieu !" 
ere  the  Priests  and  the  two  women,  with  some  assis- 
tants whom  they  had  concealed  to  aid  in  their  wicked- 
ness, overpowered  the  young  men,  snatched  the  shriek- 
ing and  screaming  Louise  away,  and  hurried  her 
through  the  sacristy,  so  that  they  saw  her  no  more. 

Diganu,  Chretien,  and  their  friends  were  equally 
alarmed  and  stupified  at  this  outrage  ;  and  especially 
when,  in  endeavoring  to  escape  from  the  church,  they 
found  all  egress  precluded.  The  Priest  who  had  visi- 
ted Diganu,  with  the  two  women  and  the  two  squaws, 
had  disappeared  with  the  Sacristan,  when  Louise  was 
carried  off;  and  every  means  to  ascertain  the  fate  of 
Louise  was  destroyed  by  their  inability  to  escape  from 
the  church.  During  this  interval,  the  women  and  the 
Priest  and  Louise  had  proceeded  in  a  covered  carriole 


towards  Quebec,  so  that  all  pursuit  would  have  beer, 
useless. 

While  they  were  thus  agonized  for  Louise,  and  ter- 
rified for  their  own  safety,  after  a  tedious  time,  the 
Sacristan  again  entered,  and  the  Cure  instantly  began 
7.0  reproach  Diganu  and  Chretien,  menaced  them  with 
all  the  curses  of  his  church,  and  the  terrors  of  the  civil 
faw,  if  they  did  not  quietly  depart.  "  You  are  guilty 
of  sacrilege — said  the  Priest — and  you  have  defiled  the 
consecrated  place,  by  raising  a  tumult  and  making  a 
contest  within  these  holy  walls.  Retire  from  the  vil- 
lage without  delay  ;  and  be  thankful  if  no  worse  pun 
ishment  befal  you." 


FHE    DISCOVERY 


Well,  thou  art  gone,  and  I  am  left  \ 
But,  O  !  how  cold  and  dark  to  me. 
This  world,  of  every  charm  bereft, 
Where  all  was  beautiful  with  thee  !" 

Diganu  and  his  friends  returned  to  Quebec    witL 
unutterable  emotions  of  sorrow  and  disappointment 
The  melancholy  feelings  of  survivors  after  the  inter 
ment  of  a  beloved  relative  are  ecstacy,  compared  will. 
their  sufferings.    Upon  their  arrival  at  Diganu's  house, 
the  feast  was  spread  ;  but  she,  who  was  to  have  been 
its  head  and  ornament,  had  vanished.      During  the 
evening,  Chretien  detailed  some  of  the  more  interest 
ing  facts  which  Louise  had  narrated ;  and  his  friend 
was  partially  soothed  by  the  unanimous  decision  o-' 
'.heir  companions,  that  it  was  very  probable  she  was 
his  sister  ;  and  that  although  it  was  terrifying  to  re 
rlect  upon  the  mode  of  separation  and  the  parties  wbc 
bad   effected  it,  still  it  was   preferable   to  the    mar- 
riage, even  though  Diganu  and  Louise  would  have 
been  excusable,  from  ignorance  of  their  near  relation 
ship. 

Nevertheless,  Diganu  and  Chretien  could  not  be 
satisfied.     Having  resolved  to  discard  the  Priests  alto 
gether,  they  determined  to  bring  the  matter  to  a  jtidi 
8 


90 

dal  investigation.  They  applied  to  Rohoirsic,  a  law= 
yer,  whose  well  known  opinions  of  the  Priests  justified 
their  hope  that  the  labyrinth  might  be  explored.  He 
undertook  the  cause  with  great  alacrity  ;  and  assured 
them  that  he  would  never  relax  in  the  pursuit,  until  the 
mystery  of  iniquity  was  revealed.  The  grand  difficulty 
xmsisted  in  selecting  the  person  upon  whom  to  fix  the 
charge  of  criminality.  It  appeared  that  the  Cure 
could  only  be  summoned  as  a  witness,  because  to 
involve  him  as  an  accessary,  would  preclude  all  the 
testimony  which  his  knowledge  of  the  other  persons 
might  elicit.  The  women  were  entirely  beyond  cog 
nizance.  Hohoirsic  advised  that  Diganu  and  Chretien 
should  have  an  interview  with  the  Roman  Prelate ; 
and  from  the  manner  in  which  he  was  affected  by  the 
information  the  ulterior  proceedings  could  be  partly 
determined.  Soon  alter  they  communicated  unto  that 
Papal  ecclesiastic,  the  main  facts  only  respecting  the 
proposed  marriage,  and  the  outrageous  manner  in 
which  the  bride  had  been  forcibly  abduced  by  the 
Priests, 

%fEh  bien !  well — said  the  Prelate — and  were  you 
not  aware  of  the  mortal  sin  you  were  about  to  commit  ?'■' 

"  How,  Monsieur  ? — replied  Diganu — I  do  not  com- 
prehend  what  sin  there  could  be  in  marrying,  according 
!,o  the  law  of  God  and  man,  the  object  of  a  pure  and 
3incere  affection." 

f  Rut  you  have  said    -retorted  the  Jesuit— that  the 


91 

young  woman  had  been  dedicated  to  the  church,  and 
to  the  holy  life  of  the  convent." 

"  Point  du  tout,  not  at  all — interposed  Chretien — the 
Priest  said  so,  but  Louise  herself  and  we  denied  it." 

t;  Ah  ! — said  the  Bishop,  assuming  an  air  of  pompous 
mitred  dignity,  and  prelatical  contempt  for  his  visitors — 
and  do  you  think  that  I  shall  believe  the  assertions  of 
two  disorderly  young  men  in  preference  to  a  Priest  of 
our  Holy  Church  ?  Besides,  you  say  that  the  young 
woman  was  your  sister — how  can  you  dare  to  come  to 
me  with  a  complaint  of  this  kind  V* 

{''  S'il  vous  plait,  if  you  please — replied  Diganu — I 
stated,  that  the  Priests  who  stole  Louise  from  me 
affirmed  that  she  was  my  sister  :  but  they  offered  no 
proof  of  that  fact." 

"  How  can  you  dare  to  dispute  or  even  disbelieve  the 
word  of  a  Priest  1 — answered  the  Pope's  legate,  his 
whole  countenance  being  inflated  with  wrath — know 
you  not  that  resistance  to  the  authority  of  the  lawful 
Priests  is  rebellion  against  God,  not  to  be  tolerated  even 
in  thought,  much  less  in  woid  and  in  action  ?  For  this 
contumacy,  you  merit  the  censures  of  the  Church,  and 
I  shall  direct  your  Cure  to  that  effect.  Before  he  ab- 
solves you,  I  shall  see  that  you  have  done  ample  pen- 
ance, and  that  the  Church  receives  full  satisfaction. 
When  you  next  take  a  young  woman  to  live  with  you, 
remember  that  you  do  not  entice  a  Postulante  or  e 


92 

Novice.  Souvenez  rous  de  moi,  partez  j  remember  ra^ 
depart." 

This  conversation  was  convincing  proof  that  the 
Jesuit  Prelate  was  acquainted  with  all  the  circumstan- 
ces, and  that  the  pontifical  shield  would  be  advanced 
to  screen  and  defend  his  subordinate  ecclesiastics 
Diganu  and  Chretien  reported  their  interview  to  the 
attorney,  who  merely  remarked — u  we  must  see  the 
Cure  of  Lorette." 

Two  of  the  intended  nuptial  party  accompanied 
Rohoirsic,  Diganu  and  Chretien  ;  and  after  much  diffi- 
culty were  introduced  to  the  Cure. — K  I  regret  to  trouble 
you — said  the  lawyer- — but  suits  are  ordered  to  be  in- 
stituted against  you  and  your  Sacristan,  and  others,  for 
the  forcible  abduction  of  a  young  lady  during  the 
matrimonial  ceremony.  Notwithstanding,  I  am  au- 
thorized to  offer  you,  that  if  you  will  become  King's  evi- 
dence, the  civil  action,  and  the  criminal  information, 
so  far  as  you  are  concerned,  shall  be  withdrawn." 

"  En  verite,  truly — answered  the  Priest,  not  in  the 
least  moved — and  who — casting  a  loweiing  glance  at 
Diganu  and  Chretien — will  have  the  effrontery  to  sup- 
port those  allegations  ?" 

"  Cela  n'importe,  that  is  of  no  importance— replied 
llohoirsic — a  heinous  offence  against  all  that  is  holy  in 
the  sight  of  heaven  and  earth  has  been  committed  by 
three  of  your  Priests  ;  and  if  there  be  any  law  and 
justice  in  this  province,  you  shall  receive  their  award" 


Do  you  understand,  Sir — retorted  the  Cure,  with 
much  apparent  sang-froid  and  disdain — to  whom,  and 
of  whom  you  talk  in  this  unprecedented  style  ?  are 
you  not  aware  of  the  danger  which  attaches  to  your- 
self, and  much  more  to  your  companions — and  he 
turned  up  his  nose,  curled  his  lip,  and  elevated  hie 
head  with  well  simulated  arrogance  and  contempt— by 
your  threatened  proceedings  ?" 

■'• Je  vous  comprens,  I  understand  you— indignantly 
responded  the  lawyer — but  I  despise  your  threats  equallj7 
as  your  favors — and  as  for  all  the  ruffians  at  your  com- 
mand, I  defy  you  and  them  Long  have  I  been  en- 
deavoring to  ferret  out  your  secret  abominable  proceed- 
ings ;  now  I  have  a  perfectly  sufficient  clue,  and  in 
spite  of  the  craftiness  of  the  Bishop  and  all  the  Jesuits 
in  Canada,  I  will  not  desist  until  this  mystery  of  wicked- 
ness is  unravelled.  If  you  will  come  forward  and 
testify  what  you  know,  you  shall  be  exonerated ;  if 
not,  I  forewarn  you,  that  there  is  ample  evidence  to 
convict  three  of  your  order,  and  to  send  you  into  that 
safe  keeping,  where  you  will  not  have  the  power  to 
kidnap  young  women  as  victims  for  your  sensuality.'5 

The  Cure  was  manifestly  disturbed  at  this  bold  and 
unequivocal  denunciation.  It  implied  a  knowledge  of 
the  arcana  of  their  lives,  which,  in  the  hands  of  so  h> 
flexible  an  enemy  and  scrutinize^  might  lead  to  very 
unpleasant  and  perilous  developments.  After  a  pause, 
therefore,  the  Cure  mildly  rejoined — "  this  matter  can 
possibly  be  compromised.  Your  demand,  however,  fc 
8# 


94 

not  within  my  power ;  but  I  will  submit  the  whole 
case  to  the  Bishop,  and  inform  you  of  his  decision." 

11  Cela  ne  vaut  rien,  this  avails  not — answered  the 
lawyer — the  Prelate  is  already  apprised  of  this  matter* 
He  has  been  consulted,  and  is  a  virtual  accessary  to  the 
crime,  probably  both  before  and  after  the  outrage.  This 
was  implied  in  his  own  declaration.  Instead  of  direct- 
ing his  censures  against  these  violators  of  female  purity, 
and  these  transgressors  of  all  right,  law  and  decorum, 
he  palliates  their  enormity,  pleads  the  official  character 
of  the  criminal  perpetrators,  and  denounces  the  loudest 
thunders  of  ecclesiastical  indignation  against  the  in- 
jured, agonized  sufferer,  who  has  been  robbed  of  his 
consolation,  and  his  most  precious  treasure." 

"  If  the  facts  be  as  you  describe  them— artfully  re- 
plied the  Priest — it  will  be  preferable  for  me  to  represent 
them  to  my  ecclesiastical  superior.  He  will  receive  my 
statement  with  more  regard  than  a  complaint  from  the 
laity." 

This  Jesuitical  finesse  was  manifestly  to  gain  time 
But  the  lawyer  decided,  that  as  the  delay  would  not 
affect  the  despatch  of  any  legal  proceedings,  some  dis- 
covery might  be  made  during  the  interval,  especially 
as  Louise  had  promised  that  Diganu  should  hear  from 
her  ;  and  although  that  event  was  scarcely  to  be  an- 
ticipated, yet  in  her  case  it  was  not  impossible,  Upon 
these  terms  the  parties  separated- 

As  the  Cure  delayed  his  answer  to  the  proposal  made 


95 

to  him,  Rohoirsic  again  informed  bim  that  he  had  ob- 
tained overwhelming  evidence  to  convict  the  parties, 
and  that  all  attempts  to  evade  tiie  investigation  would 
be  fruitless,  as  the  (Governor  was  informed  of  the  ex- 
traordinary circumstances  connected  with  the  affair  of 
Lorette,  and  had  promised  his  executive  interference, 
if  the  ordinary  legal  process  should  not  be  sufficient  tc 
elicit  the  truth. 

This  communication,  being  too  authoritative  to  be 
resisted,  was  effectual.  A  few  days  after  he  had  re- 
ceived it,  the  Cure  thus  replied  to  the  lawyer — "  I  am 
directed  to  state,  that  as  speedily  as  practicable,  an  ex- 
plicit answer  will  be  given  you  concerning  the  whole 
case." 

Nearly  three  months  had  elapsed  when  the  detested 
Pretre,  who  before  had  destroyed  their  peace,  entered 
the  house.  Diganu  and  Chretien  recoiled  at  the  sight 
of  him,  as  if  a  black  snake  had  darted  upon  them. 
His  features  and  manners  appeared  to  be  totally 
changed.  The  former  bore  an  aspect  of  benignity, 
and  the  latter  were  polished  and  affable.  The  friends 
expressed  not  the  most  distant  courtesy,  or  any  token 
of  civility.  "  I  come — said  the  Jesuit,  after  a  pause, 
as  if  he  had  expected  them  to  inquire  into  his  object — 
*o  pacify  your  minds  respecting  Louise.5' 

It  was  a  cunning  prelude.  He  well  knew  that  her 
name  would  constitute  a  charm  and  his  passport  to  an 
audience.     Diganu  and  Chretien  nodded  assent,  ant* 


% 

the  latter  said — "o«  that  account,  we  are  willing  io 
receive  your  communication." 

"  Your  marriage — continued  the  Pretre — could  not 
have  been  permitted  on  account  of  your  fraternal  rela- 
tion"— Diganu  hastil  interrupted  him  with  this  re- 
mark— "That  remains  to  be  proved.  I  know  so  much 
of  your  knavish  artifices  and  impostures,  that  I  will 
now  believe  nothing  where  the  interests  of  your  church 
'ind  of  your  order  are  concerned,  though  all  the  Priests 
in  Canada  swear  to  its  truth." 

A  momentary  flush  of  wrath  passed  over  the  Je- 
suit's countenance,  which  was  immediately  followed 
by  a  derisive  smile.  "  Diganu — replied  the  Priest — if 
is  of  no  importance  what  you  and  your  friend  believe, 
No  other  mode  of  impeding  an  unlawful  marriage  ex- 
isted. Circumstances  may  be  true,  which  it  is  difficult 
or  dangerous  to  prove.  It  will  be  ruinous  to  you  to 
produce  the  testimony  which  shall  absolutely  convince 
you  of  the  certain  fact  that  you  are  the  son  of  Louise's1 
mother." 

"  What  care  I  for  ruin  ? — retorted  Diganu,  over 
powered  with  distress — who  am  I  ?  what  am  I  /  what 
have  I  been  ?  Who,  except  Chretien,  cares  for  me  7 
What  difference  should  1  feel,  if  to-morrow  I  were  seized 
and  shipped  to  Europe?  I  should  only  have  to  rely  upon 
my  own  exertions  to  obtain  comfort  there,  the  same  a? 
I-  have  to  do  in  Quebec  V 


97 

When  he  had  thus  effused  his  half  thoughtless  solilo 
quy ;  the  Priest  resumed  his  remarks.  "  Non  pas  si 
vite,  not  so  fast :  who  watched  over  you  in  infancy  ? 
who  provided  for  you  in  youth  ?  who  contrived  for  you 
a  tolerable  education  ?  who  supplied  your  wants?  who 
advised  you  to  engage  in  business  %  and  who  has  often 
befriended  you,  when  you  wanted  pecuniary  assistance 
to  carry  it  on  successfully  T' 

"  Chretien  and  his  father — answered  Diganu — and 
except  Louise,  I  never  yet  saw  any  other  human  crea- 
tures who  appeared  to  feel  the  least  solicitude  respect- 


"  Tres  bon,  very  good  ! — added  the  Pretre — thee 
you  suppose  that  Chretien's  father,  for  so  many  years, 
has  shewn  all  this  kindness  to  you  for  nothing,  or  out 
of  his  own  small  income  ?" 

A  gleam  of  light  suddenly  irradiated  their  minds ; 
and  there  was  a  mingled  flash  of  surprise  and  inquiry 
indicated  by  the  countenances  both  of  Diganu  and 
Chretien.  The  Priest  instantly  perceived  the  advan- 
tage which  he  had  so  dexterously  attained — "  C'est 
assez,  it  is  enough — he  next  remarked — there  is 
another  reason  for  Louise's  separation  from  you.  She 
is  strongly  suspected  of  having  imbibed  very  heretical 
notions  from  an  old  woman  whom  she  was  appointed 
sometimes  to  visit,  that  she  might  understand  how  to 
perform  the  offices  of  charity  for  the  sick,  the  poor,  and 
*he  afflicted,     That  old  woman  was  discovered,  after 


98 

her  death,  to  have  been  an  apostate  from  our  holy 
mother,  the  Church.'3 — Here  Diganu  and  Chretien 
smiled,  and  involuntarily  displayed  a  look  of  con 
temptuous  aversion  ;  which  was  noticed  by  the  Jesuit 
"I  understand  you, — he  subjoined — but  more  of  that 
point  hereafter.  This  is  now  the  reason  for  her  being 
removed  from  you  ;  although  after  your  avowed  inti 
macy,  even  your  mutual  conviction  that  she  is  your 
3ister  would  render  her  residence  with  you  improper  , 
and  as  she  was  originally  designed  for  the  convent,  it  is 
determined  to  restore  her  to  her  retirement  and  duties, 
that  she  may  be  reclaimed  from  her  heresy  and  disobe- 
dience to  the  Church." 

"It  is  all  unavailing — replied  Diganu — I  am  resolved 
at  all  risks  to  know  her  fate,  and  to  have  the  fact, 
that  Louise  is  the  daughter  of  my  Mother  demonstra 
fed  to  my  satisfaction." 

"  I  warn  you — said  the  Priest — that  your  obstinacy 
in  this  respect,  Diganu,  will  be  not  only  your  own 
ruin  ;  but  that  it  will  be  attended  with  the  greatest 
danger  to  all  your  associates  who  were  recognized  in 
the  church  at  Lorette,  when  your  incestuous  marriage 
was  so  seasonably  interrupted." 

"Why  was  not  our  relationship  communicated 
before? — asked  Diganu,  with  irritated  impetuosity — "it 
Is  evident  that  the  place  where  Louise  was  concealed 
was  known  to  some  of  your  ruffian  gang." — A  strong 
'Expression  of  angry,  scornful  emotion  here  perturbed 


99 

fbr  a  moment  the  otherwise  serene  features  of  the 
Pretre — "and  she  might  have  been  left  to  me — said 
Diganu — at  least,  that  I  might  experimentally  under- 
stand what  one  of  the  endeared  connections  of  domestic 
life  includes." 

*'  1  have  told  you  already — replied  the  Priest,  with 
his  first  suavity  of  manner — that  no  evidence  could 
have  been  adduced  to  convince  you,  without  involving 
you  both  in  more  misery  than  even  your  sudden  and 
coerced  separation.  Your  mind  will  speedily  be  at 
rest  by  an  attachment  for  another  female,  and  Louise 
will  be  restored  to  the  bosom  of  the  Church,  from  which 
she  has  so  perversely  or  thoughtlessly  strayed." 

u  Jamais  ;  non  jamais  ;  never,  no  never  ! — said 
Diganu,  with  fervid  excitement — no  force,  no  tortures 
will  ever  induce  Louise,  while  she  is  in  her  senses,  again 
to  be  united  with  your  abominable  craft." 

11  Tres  excellent ;  most  excellent  !  Diganu— an- 
swered the  Pretre — then  Louise  has  improved  her  time 
nobly.  I  perceive  that  either  love  or  folly  has  infected 
you  with  her  own  mania. " 

i(  Mania  or  not — returned  Diganu,  with  unguarded 
exasperation— I  speak  as  1  feel ;  and  will  do  it  in  full 
at  the  proper  time  and  place.  I  believe  your  religion 
to  have  been  contrived  in  hell,  and  that  you,  Roman 
Priests,  are  no  better  than  fiends  incarnate." 

Chretien  was  terrified  at  his  friend's  imprudent  an$ 


100 

latigei  ous  sincerity.  The  Jesuit  contrived,  however,  to 
conceal  his  exacerbated  feelings,  while  he  replied  with 
all  the  composure  which  he  could  possibly  assume-—"  I 
thank  you  for  your  candor ;  your  avowal  now  placer 
Us  upon  a  different  relation  to  each  other.  Know 
then,  Diganu,  I  dread  neither  your  opinions  nor  your 
statements  ;  and  of  this  fact  you  have  full  proof  by 
my  visiting  you  alone  in  your  own  house.  Had  I 
oeen  afraid  of  your  menaced  legal  proceedings,  or  of 
Rohoirsic,  or  the  King's  Bencl ;,  or  even  of  the  Gover- 
nor. I  should  not  have  risked  my  person  by  appearing 
unto  you ;  and  had  Chretien  withdrawn  from  the  room, 
I  should  have  suspected  his  intention  to  procure  help 
to  detain  me.  and  should  have  fled.  The  wretched 
consequences,  whatever  they  might  have  been,  would 
have  fallen  upon  yourself  alone." 

This  practical  avowal  of  daring  fearlessness  perplex 
ed  Diganu.  It  seemed  that  his  tormentors,  by  some 
inscrutable  means,  had  him  so  completely  in  their 
power,  that  they  could  make  him,  just  as  they  pleased, 
the  foot-ball  of  their  amusement.  His  fortitude  was 
not  relaxed,  but  he  began  to  falter  in  his  pertinacity. 
The  lynx-eyed  Jesuit  discerned  his  internal  conflict, 
and  adroitly  seized  the  occasion  additionally  to  embar 
rass  him.  "  Diganu — said  he — I  come  here  as  your 
friend"— 

<f  Friend  ! — retorted  the  son  of  sorrow,  vehemently 
Interrupting  him — then  what  is  friendship  but  a  name  1 
ii  you  are  a  friend,  what  is  an  enemy  ?" 


ioi 

"We  shall  not  now  enter  upon  abstract  discussions— 
continued  the  Pretre — I  have  business  of  more  interest 
I  repeat  my  declaration,  that  I  come  to  visit  you  as  a 
friend,  Nothing  can  alter  the  fact,  that  Louise-is  your 
sister.  All  the  authority  of  the  government  cannot, 
discover  her  retreat,  or  if  that  could  be  ascertained,  dare 
not  attempt  to  remove  her.  Yon  will  see  her  no  more, 
1  presume,  in  this  world.  Cela  suffice,  that  is  sufficient. 
But  you  are  free,  capable  of  enjoyment ;  and  if  you 
had  continued  in  your  dutiful  obedience  to  the  Church, 
you  might  have  been  prosperous  and  happy,  without 
trouble.  Now  you  are  denounced  by  the  Bishop  as  a 
heretic."' 

"  Je  ne  nVen  soucis  pas,  I  care  not — Digami  scorn- 
fully  uttered — who,  what  is  he?  a  fit  confederate  for 
the  ungodly  Priests  who  were  at  Lorette." 

"Prenez  garde,  take  care! — subjoined  the  Priest- 
how  you  utter  your  opinions  upon  these  subjects  to- 
others. I  excuse  them  from  the  agitation  of  your 
feelings,  and  the  species  of  delirium  which  comes  over 
you  when  you  th ink  and  talk  of  Louise.  Great  pains 
have  been  taken  to  mollify  the  Bishop,  whose  high 
ecclesiastical  dignity  you  so  deeply  offended,  and  whose 
apostolic  spiritual  authority  you  so  contumeliously 
defied.  I  know. that  you  are  an  incorrigible  heretic- 
Chretien  stared  with  astonishment — do  not  affect  sur» 
prise — said  the  Pivtre,  addressing  himself  to  Chretien — 
you  also  are  placed  upon  the  list  of  the  suspected,  and 

nothing  but  a  strict  and  uninterrupted  conformitv  tr 

9 


102 

die  laws  of  the  Church  and  the  commands  of  ite 
heaven— appointed  Priests,  will  save  you  from  the 
terrors  of  that  sentence  of  greater  excommunication^ 
which  it  denounces  against  all  apostates."— At  this 
folly,  Diganu  looked  unutterable  dislike,  mingled  with 
profound  contempt  for  such  a  fallacious  description  and 
3uch  an  arrogant  claim.—"  I  know  that  you  are  a 
heretic,  Diganu—the  Pretre  continued — but  you  are 
pitied  on  account  of  disappointment,  which  on  your 
part  was  involuntary  ;  and  you  both  are  respected  for 
your  delivering  Louise  from  her  danger,  and  for  your 
subsequent  tender  care  and  brotherly  protection  of  her, 
This  has  been  explained  to  the  Bishop,  who  was 
3oothed  by  the  account  of  your  kindness  to  your  siste^ 
and  he  has  condescended  to  remove  from  you  the 
censures  of  the  Church  which  he  had  pronounced." 

"  I  care  neither  for  his  censure  nor  his  praise- 
answered  Diganu — I  saw  enough  of  him  to  induce  me 
to  have  no  more  connection  either  with  him,  or  with 
any  of  his  inferior  Pests  of  this  province." 

"Hear  me — added  the  Jesuit,  with  an  unaltered 
countenance  and  tone — you  will  be  indulged  in  your 
heresies  without  notice,  -provided  that  you  do  not 
assail  the  sacred  persons  and  characters  of  the  holy 
priesthood." — Diganu  ejaculated- — a  Holy  Priests !  then 
what  is  devilish  '?" — The  Pretre  seemed  not  to  hear 
him.  "  The  same  persons  unknown  to  you — he  con- 
tinued— who  hitherto  have  directed  your  junior  course, 
will  be  always  ready  to  serve  you  :  but  it  is  upon  one 


108 


condition  only—that  you  withdraw  all  legal  measures 
in  reference  to  your  separation  from  Louise,  and  that 
you  never  again  publicly  introduce  that  painful  oceur- 


li  C'est  impossible,  it  is  impossible  !— replied  Diganu 
—1  never  shall  be,  I  never  can  be  at  peace,  until 
the  mystery  respecting  my  relation  to  Louise  is  satis- 
factorily explained." 

"Once  more  I  repeat — rejoined  the  Pretre — it  cannot 
be  done  personally  to  you.  Those  individuals  to  i  horn 
I  have  alluded,  as  far  as  practicable,  wish  to  relieve 
your  anxieties  upon  that  point,  and  have  proposed  a 
plan,  to  which,  if  you  accede,  all  disputation  will  for- 
ever be  terminated.  Will  you  confide  in  Monsieur 
Rohoirsic? — will  you  consent  to  any  arrangement 
which  he  may  make  1  And  if  he  can  be  convinced 
that  Louise  is  your  sister,  will  you  be  contented  V 

Diganu  cast  an  inquiring  look  upon  Chretien.  Af- 
ter a  short  pause — "  I  do  not  want  your  answer  this 
evening — said  the  Pretre — reflect  upon  the  subject 
when  you  are  more  composed.  Consider  whether  the 
complete  assurance  of  your  confidential  advocate,  and 
in  this  case  his  own  inclinations  will  make  him  faith- 
ful to  you,  would  settle  your  own  mind.  If  you  please; 
consult  your  professional  adviser ;  and  I  will  see  you 
again  for  your  ultimate  decision." 

By   Chretien's  advice,  Diganu  accepted  this  pro 


104 

position  :  and  immediately  after  expressing  his  assent , 
the  Priest  said — "  To  prove  that  the  parties  with  whom 
you  are  so  deeply  offended,  for  what  you  consider  then 
unpardonable  outrage,  have  no  design  further  to  pain 
you,  I  am  requested  to  present  you  this  trifle — offering 
him  a  bag — not  as  a  compensation  for  your  anguish? 
but  to  reimburse  your  expenditures  for  Louise." 

l!  Trash  ! — replied  Diganu,  contemptuously  spurn 
ing  at  the  proffered  gold — what  can  recompense  me 
for  the  pungent  sorrow  which  I  have  endured  V' 

"  I  repeat — said  the  Pretre — that  the  contents  of 
this  bag  are  not  intended  as  a  cordial  tor  your  sorrows, 
but  as  an  act  of  justice.  To  a  young  man  with  a 
small  business,  just  entering  active  life,  the  additional 
cxpences  to  which  you  were  subject,  through  the  sick 
ness  of  Louise,  and  her  residence  v  ith  you,  are  not 
unimportant.  Chretien,  lake  charge  of  that  bag  ; 
probably  Diganu  yet  may  be  induced  to  accept  its  con- 
tents for  the  sake  of  his  sister.  Bon  soir  ;  good  night  1" 
and  he  hastily  departed. 

Chretien  was  gratified  to  perceive,  that  through  this 
interview  with  the  Priest,  Diganu's  heart  gradually 
became  more  resigned,  and  more  disposed  to  credit  the 
statement,  that  Louise  was  his  sister.  If  even  adelu 
sion,  Chretien  judged,-  that  the  only  method  to  alleviate 
Diganu's  grief  was  to  encourage  his  belief  of  it,  for  all 
hope  of  ever  meeting  Louise  again  was  a  palpable  de- 
ception.   Chretien  therefore  encouraged  the  sentiment, 


105 

until  Digana  began  to  consider  that  their  separation, 
under  all  the  circumstances,  if  he  was  her  brother,  was 
preferable,  while  he  felt  not  the  least  abatement  of 
his  detestation,  either  for  the  mode  or  the  agents. 

Some  days  after  the  Jesuit's  visit,  a  parcel  for  Diganu 
was  received,  which,  upon  being  opened,  contained  a  let- 
ter ant!  a  large  package  of  louis  d'ors.  Diganu  request- 
ed Chretien  to  count  them,  to  replace  them  in  the  bag. 
and  to  seal  it,  while  he  perused  the  letter.  He  had 
read  but  a  few  lines,  when  he  betrayed  great  agitation. 
After  a  moment's  reflection,  he  arose,  and  drew  from 
his  desk  the  letter  which  he  had  formerly  received, 
prohibiting  his  marriage  with  Louise.  "  C'est  le  raeme, 
;t  is  the  same — he  said — most  extraordinary !"  Chretien 
inquired  the  cause  of  his  emotion.  "  Another  letter- 
answered  Diganu — in  the  same  hand-writing  as  before. 
We  must  unravel  this  strange  circumstance." — The 
letter  was  evidently  written  by  the  same  woman  who 
had  despatched  the  former  terrifying  scroll. 

To  Djganu. 

'-'It  is  of  no  use,  Diganu,  to  oppose  the  truth.    Louise 

is  your  sister.     I  tell  you  again,  as  you  heard  at  Lorette, 

the  same  motherly  hands  stamped  the  cross  on  both 

your  heads,  on  purpose  that  you  might  be  recognized 

whenever  it  might  be  necessary  to  interfere  in  your 

concerns.     Father  and  Mother,  you  and  Louise  never 

knew,  although  you  have  never  been  from  under  their 

control.     From  this  time,  they  will  have  no  further 

concern  with  you.     Louise  is  as  comfortable  as  her 

heretical  temper  will  allow.     She  lias  made  both  you 
9* 


iOG 

8 nd Chretien  heretics:  but  the  Holy  Bishop  and  Priests, 
mercifully  believing  that  you  are  not  now  exactly  in 
your  right  mind,  postpone  their  sentence  against  you 
You  must  give  up  your  law-suits,  or  else  worse  will 
come  upon  you.  You  received  a  letter  before,  and 
you  found  every  word  of  it  true.  Remember,  therefore.. 
my  present  advice  Hearken  to  the  Priest's  proposal 
You  shall  not  bring  the  business  to  a  trial.  The 
Lawyer  will  not  be  touched  ;  because  as  he  is  such  an 
enemy  to  the  Bishop  and  the  Priests,  if  any  harm 
should  come  to  him,  their  Reverences  would  be  char- 
ged with  having  instigated  it ;  but  for  the  rest  of 
you  no  person  is  concerned.  Therefore  mark  me — 
if  you  persist  in  your  obstinacy,  Louise  will  die  un- 
known and  where  no  earthly  power  can  ever  discover 
it  j  and  you,  Diganu,  with  Chretien,  shall  follow  her, 
struck  by  an  invisible  hand,  and  in  such  a  manner, 
that  the  world  shall  pronounce  you  both  suicides  after 
your  exit.  I  have  sent  you  some  money;  make  a 
right  use  of  it.  Attend  to  your  business.  Never 
gamble  ;  that  is  the  road  to  ruin.  Get  all  the  money 
you  can.  Never  trouble  yourself  about  the  Priests  and 
Nuns.  Be  cautious  what  kind  of  a  woman  you  marry. 
Do  not  talk  about  our  religion.  Keep  your  mouth 
close.  Watch  your  neighbors.  Take  care  of  your- 
self and  your  money  ;  then  you  can  do  as  you  please, 
Mind  number  one  ;  and  all  will  be  well !  Adieu  !  this 
is  the  last  that  you  will  ever  hear  of  Louise!'5 


'  Tres  hon  ;  very  good  !— said  Chretien— the  old. 


107 

bag,  as  Louise  truly  named  her,  knows  the  ways  of 
the  world." 

"  It  is  very  surprising,  Chretien— remarked  Diganu 
— that  your  father  and  mother,  who  brought  me  up, 
should  never  have  mentioned  any  hint  of  all  these 
matters.  Do  you  think  it  possible,  that  they  are  igno- 
rant of  what  the  Priest  explained,  and  what  this  letter 
implies  ? 

"  Certement,  certainly  ! — replied  his  friend — I  have 
heard  my  father  and  mother  often  declare,  that  they 
knew  nothing  about  you;  except  that  when  they  went 
to  Quebec,  they  always  stopped  at  one  house,  and 
soon  after  they  arrived,  a  man  or  woman  used  to  call 
and  inquire  for  you,  find  out  what  you  wanted,  and 
give  them  clothes  fot  you,  and  groceries  and  other  do- 
mestic supplies,  as  much  as  they  wished.  But  who 
they  were,  or  where  they  lived ;  they  do  not  know  at 
this  hour  and  I  was  only  ten  years  old.  when  we  first 
oame  together  to  Quebec," 

Diganu  and  Chretien  soon  visited  the  lawyer,  re- 
counted the  conversation  with  the  Jesuit  Priest,  and 
shewed  the  letter  which  had  been  received,  prior  to  the 
afTair  at  Lorette,  and  that  delivered  a  few  days  before 
their  interview.  "  There  is — remarked  Rohoirsic — an 
appearance  of  truth  about  this  circumstance,  which 
involves  prudential  questions  of  great  importance: 
Doubtless,  Louise  is  immured  in  some  dungeon  where 
ne  earthly  power  can  save  her  :  and  it  is  not  less  cer= 


108 

lain,  that  to  hinder  the  legal  investigation  of  the  story 
of  Louise,  that  they  will  execute  their  vengeance.  If 
they  resolve  to  murder,  nothing  can  save  you.  The 
Priest's  order  will  be  obeyed  ;  his  servile  tool  has  no 
conscience,  but  the  Pretre's  command.  Even  could 
the  investigation  be  pursued  to  its  close,  and  the  fact 
that  Louise  was  J)iganu's  sister  be  proved,  it  would 
only  secretly  banish  those  ruffians  from  the  province,, 
by  episcopal  mandate ;  while  your  lives,  as  they  de- 
clare, would  immediately  be  sacrificed.  Against  their 
wiles,  I  am  convinced,  that  there  is  no  security;  be- 
cause any  plan  which  they  project,  will  be  joyfully  un 
dertaken  ;  and  by  representing  you  as  two  heretics, 
their  ignorant  disciples  would  fancy  themselves  dis- 
playing to  God  their  highest  service  and  allegiance 
when  they  deprive  you  of  life.  Before  you  see  the 
Priest  again,  1  shall  doubtless  hear  from  the  Cure? 
and  I  will  advise  you  without  delay  what  answer  to 
return  to  him." 

On  the  following  day,  the  Priest  of  Lorette  called 
upon  Rohoirsic ;  and  after  stating  that  there  were  in- 
trinsic andv  peculiar  difficulties  in  the  ease,  proposed, 
that  the  counsellor  should  urge  upon  his  client  the 
acceptance  of  the  Priest's  proposal.  "  The  parties  are 
willing — said  the  Cure — to  confide  to  you  full  proof  of 
the  relationship  between  Diganu  and  Louise,  upon 
your  engagement  of  inviolable  secrecy.  No  evidence 
can  be  more  satisfactory  ;  but  the  whole  is  of  so  deli 
cate  a  nature,  that  a  public  scrutiny  never  will  be  ad- 
mitted, under  any  pretext  or  claim  ;  and  it  will  be 


109 

Evaded  m  spite  of  all  the  civil  authorities/5 — The  law- 
yer expressed  his  acquiescence  ;  and  the  Priest,  to  se- 
cure his  favor,  told  him  to  accept  no  fee  from  Diganu 
;:If  you  can  terminate  the  affair — added  the  Cure — 
you  shall  be  amply  remunerated  for  your  mediation." 

During  (he  interval  from  the  strange  Priest's  visit  to 
Diganu,  Chretien  thought,  tint  the  evidence  was  so 
plausible  as  to  authorize  belief,  or  deeming  it.  fruitless  to 
persevere,  he  had  exerted  all  his  influence  to  procure 
Diganu's  consent  to  the  offer.  His  grand  argument 
was  this,  that  as  the  parties  could  not  unveil  the 
whole  mystery,  Diganu  could  not  he  more  satisfied ; 
that  if  the  -lawyer  was  convinced,  no  additional  evi- 
dence was  requisite;  and  that  as  Rohoirsic  was  so 
embittered  against  the  priestcraft,  and  so  shrewd  in 
discovering  a  fraud,  it  was  most  probable  that  they 
would  not  attempt  to  impose  upon  him,  as  it  would 
only  now  give  him  a  new  advantage  over  them  This 
impression  was  increased  by  the  Counsellor's  views 
and  opinions,  who  engaged,  that  he  would  admit 
nothing  less  as  truth,  than  testimony  which  would 
convince  Diganu  and  Chretien,  if  it  were  submitted 
unto  them, 

The  next  evening  the  Priest  entered.  He  accepted 
Diganu's  promise,  cautioned  him  to  be  wary  in  the 
expression  of  his  opinions,  and  admonished  him  much 
to  the  same  purport,  as  the  woman  had  done,  in  the 
letter  which  he  had  received.  "  This  business  will  be 
closed  to-morrow—he  added,  as  he  was  retiring — on 


1.10 

I  I  he  next  day,  you  will  hear  from  your  Counsellor  :  after 
which,  I  ehall  see  you  once  more  j  till  then,  Adieu  f" 

Diganu  and  Chretien  very  impatiently  waited  for  the 
lawyer's  information.  About  the  time  designated  b} 
the  Priest,  he  visited  them.  As  soon  as  he  entered. 
Diganu's  feverish  excitement,  mingled  with  his  sorrow- 
ful agitation,  compressed  all  his  feelings  into  a  short 
question  which  he  abruptly  proposed  to  Rohoirsic.  ?  Is 
it  true.*"  said  the  youth  ;  but  he  read  the  reply  in  his 
features,  before  the  words  were  uttered — "  Louise  with- 
out doubt  is  your  half  sister."  Diganu  replied — "then, 
one  half  of  my  burden  and  my  grief  is  at  once  re- 
moved.  Can  you  give  me  any  of  the  evidence  which 
has  produced  that  conviction  in  your  mind  ?" 

"Every  thing,  of  course — answered  Rohoirsic — 
which  could  involve  any  of  the  parties  in  certain  abso- 
lute disgrace  has  been  concealed,  as  well  as  their 
names :  but  ample  circumstantial  proof  has  been  pre 
sented  to  me,  that  you  are  the  children  of  different 
fathers  by  the  same  mother.  Two  baptismal  registers 
have  been  produced  in  which  two  children  are  recorded 
as  still  living.  Francis  i).  is  the  eldest ;  and  you  are 
described  as  having  a  peculiar  cross  with  a  I)  marked 
on  your  crown  ;  I  should  recognize  it  at  once."  Diganu 
offered  his  head  for  inspection — "the  very  same — added 
the  lawyer,  after  a  close  scrutiny;  then  addressing 
Chretien— did  you  ever  notice  this  remarkable  oval 
figure?" — Chretien  replied — "not  particularly;  but  a 
similar  mark  in  Louise's  cross  was  very  distinguisha 


Ill 

ble.5J  The  lawyer  thus  explained  his  meaning—"  that 
mark  was  intended  to  point  out  to  the  parents  only,  in 
case  of  necessity,  the  mother.  It  is  a  capital  Greek 
Theta;  and  divulges  the  two  first  letters  of  her  name." 
Diganu  instantly  asked— "are  you  acquainted  either 
with  that  or  the  names  of  our  fathers?" 

"  No— returned  the  advocate— except  that  the  D  in 
your  cross  was  the  initial  letter  of  his  name,  as  the  M 
in  the  cross  of  Louise  was  the  first  letter  of  her  fatherV 
appellative  ;  these  particulars  were  all  that  were  men 
tioned.     From  the  details  which  you  have  given,  and 
from  a  combination  of  various  circumstances,  1  might 
indulge  a  suspicion  :  but  these  Jesuits  are  so  deceitful; 
that  where  their  craft  is  concerned,  you  can  safely  rely 
upon  nothing  which  they  say  or  do.     But  now  1  have 
to  ask   you   one   question.     Describe   the   person   of 
Louise?"     Diganu  and  Chretien  portrayed  her  min- 
utely— "The  very  same — observed  the  lawyer— and 
in  the  baptismal  register,  she  is  recorded  as  Louise  M.. 
the  sister  of  Francis  D.,  and  sixteen  months  younger, 
with  a  similar  cross  on  her  forehead  and  the  letter  M  in 
it."     Chretien  remarked — "  Nothing  can  b*  more  alike 
than  the  two  crosses ;  and  Diganu  and  I  often  men- 
tioned that  other  mark  in  Louise's  cross,  although  wo 
knew  not  the  design."   The  advocate  added— "Nothing 
therefore  can  be  more  clear  than  the  fact,  that  the  M 
was  her  father's  initial  letter." 

"  How  old  then  am  I  V    inquired  Diganu.     "  That 
was  not  communicated—  answered  Rohoirsic — but  yon 


112 

must  be  about  the  age  of  Chretien,  because  his  mother 
partly  suckled  you  when  he  wa9  an  infant.  I  presume 
however,  lhat  you  are  a  few  months  older  than  he  is  : 
but  upon  these  topics,  all  possible  reserve  was  main 
tained.  Nothing-  was  unfolded,  except  it  tended  to 
verify  the  main  fact,  and  of  that,  I  have  no  doubt/' 

The  lawyer  then  proceeded  to  state  some  general 
circumstances  respecting  Louise,  her  living  at  Poinf 
aux  Trembles,  her  visit  to  Jacques  Cartier,  her  rescue 
at  Lorette,  her  boarding  at  the  house  where  Diganu 
had  first  stationed  her  in  Quebec,  and  some  other 
matters  to  which  neither  Diganu  nor  Chretien  had 
adverted  ;  which  proved,  that  the  parties  who  had  marie 
known  those  things  hat)  secretly  watched  their  conduct : 
and  therefore  on  this  sul-ject,  might  surely  be  ere 
dited.  But  when  the  counselor  proceeded  to  identify 
Diganu  in  the  same  mamer,  by  details  of  his  early 
life,  progress,  pursuits,  o  cupations,  and  many  other 
private  occurrences  only  known  to  Chretien  and  his 
early  domestic  associates,  his  remaining  incredulity 
vanished  away,  and  he  fully  acknowledged — "  Per- 
sons so  minutely  acquainted  with  these  trifling  and 
almost  obliterated  events  of  my  junior  years  must  be 
mysteriously  connected  with  me,  and  therefore  in  a  case 
of  this  nature  their  evidence  is  admissable." 

"This  is  my  decided  opinion — replied  Rohoirsic — 
not  that  they  have  voluntarily  made  this  disclosure. 
Thev  have  been  intimidated,  and  dreading  the  open 
exhibition  of  a  crime,  which,  only   in  its  prominent 


113 

act,  the  forcible  abduction  of  a  female  in  the  midst  of 
the  nuptial  ceremony,  would  excite  an  unappeasable 
commotion,  they  have  preferred  that  you  should  escape 
iheir  fangs,  and  that  I  should  be  at  liberty  to  imagine 
whatever  1  please." 

"  But  what  shall  I  do  with  the  money  which  has 
been  transmitted  to  me  ?n  inquired  Diganu.  "  That 
is  well  introduced — answered  the  lawyer — I  am  per 
suaded,  that  to  some  of  the  parties,  who  were  the  pro- 
minent agents  in  the  transaction  at  Lorette,  you  are 
indebted  for  your  birth,  tuition,  and  the  facilities  which 
you  have  received  in  commencing  and  carrying  on 
your  business.  This  was  not  distinctly  stated,  but  it 
was  intimated,  that  your  connections  who  had  assisted 
you  before,  are  now  so  enraged  at  your  conduct,  that 
they  have  determined  no  longer  to  befriend  you.  In 
fact,  they  dread  lest  by  some  means,  the  medium  by 
which  you  have  been  aided  with  cash  and  credit  should 
be  traced  ;  and  therefore  they  will  preclude  all  discovery 
by  leaving  you  in  future,  entirely  to  yourself.  Retain 
their  presents ;  then  if  they  discard  you,  the  impression 
that  you  possess  superfluous  wealth  will  enable  you  to 
choose  the  best  connections.  One  fact  however  was 
plainly  declared  ;  if  you  close  the  threatened  litigation ; 
the  persons  who  have  educated  you  will  not  permit 
you  ever  to  be  destitute  and  dependent." 

^  I  shall  insist  upon  one  condition — added  Diganu— 
and  for  it  you  must  obtain  a  sufficient  guarantee;  that 
if  Louise  dies  before  me,  I  shall  be  made  acquainted 
10 


114 

With  her  decease."    The  Counsellor  answered— u  that 
is  proper ;  I  will  have  this  point  fully  insured." 

On  tha  same  evening  the  Cure  of  Lorette  appeared. 
The  other  articles  were  easily  adjusted ;  but  the  last 
claim  of  Diganu  was  pronounced  inadmissible.     "  I 
wish  not  to  impose  upon  you — remarked  Rohoirsic— 
but  I  have  you  all  now  completely  in  my  power.    I  shall 
insist  upon  occasionally  seeing  Louise.     It  is  a  duty 
which  I  owe  to  all  the  parties  ;  for  I  have  promised  to 
convey  the  information  of  her  death  to  Diganu,  in  case 
be  should  survive  her."     The  Cure  finally  assented  ; 
and  the  lawyer  engaged  that  the  whole  affair  should  be 
buried  in  oblivion.     He  presented  Rohoirsic  his  douceur 
for  his  services,  and  desired  him  to  repress  all  intem- 
perate unguarded  expressions;  if  Diganu  and  Chretien, 
through  youthful  effervescence,  should  ever  introduce 
them.     On  the  subsequent  night,  the  counsellor  com- 
municated  to  Diganu  and  Chretien  a  full  detail  of  his 
proceedings;  and  they  were  consoled  with  the  idea; 
that  at  least,  they  should  hear  of  Louise's  departure ; 
which  they  anticipated  could  not  be  very  distant,  from 
the  trials  which  they  imagined,  she  would  be  forced  to 
endure.     Some  days  after,  the  Priest  who  had  been 
the  cause  of  all  Louise's  misery  entered  for  the  last 
time.     "I  am  come,  Diganu— said  the  Pretre,  with 
great  cordiality — according  to  my  promise  to  see  you 
once  more :  your  proceedings  now  prove,  that  you  are 
pot  totally  insensible  to  reason,  feeling,  and  propriety." 

"Had  I  possessed  neither— retorted  Diganu — it  would 


U5 

not  have  been  a  matter  of  surprize.  How  is  a  human, 
creature  to  snow  sensibility,  who  has  never  enjoyed  a 
relative's  endearments  to  keep  it  in  exercise ;  and  just 
when  it  was  beginning  to  awake  and  expand  itself, 
who  has  had  its  first  fresh  and  green  fruits  forever 
blasted." 

"The  lawyer  has  convinced  you — repliedthe  Jesuit ; 
that  your  proposed  marriage  was  illegal  and  unnatural; 
and    no  other   secure   mode  existed  to  annul   your 
contract." 

"  Why  was  not  that  explanation  made,  when  it  was 
ascertained  that  Louise  was  residing  with  her  brother  'I 
asked  Diganu — then  she  might  have  been  useful,  and 
I  might  have  been  at  peace." 

"  It  was  perceived — said  the  Priest — that  your  affec- 
tion had  assumed  that  irrevocable  character,  which  in- 
dulged no  expectation  of  any  change.  Besides,  the 
heresy  of  Louise  exposed  her  to  continual  danger — his 
countenance  for  once  expressed  great  severity — and  her 
heresy  is  unpardonable." 

Chretien  here  interposed,  and  with  great  mildness 
inquired — "  what  is  heresy  V — The  Pretre,  with  a 
haughty  air  and  tone  answered — "  Heresy  !  Chretien ; 
it  is  heresy  to  read  the  Bible.  It  is  heresy  not  to  be- 
lieve what  your  Priest  teaches.  It  is  heresy  not  to 
attend  Mass  and  Confession,  and  not  to  pay  the  church 
dues :  and  above  all,  it  is  rank  heresy,  to  act  contrary 
Xo  a  Priest's  directions," 


116 

"  But  I  will  read  the  Bible— exclaimed  Diganu,  witb 
great  energy— -I  believe  all  that  you  teach  is  strong  de- 
lusion. I  will  never  more  go  to  Mass  or  Confession 
or  pay  a  Priest  one  sous :  and  I  mean  to  do  every  thing 
exactly  contrary  to  all  that  the  Priests  have  hitherto 
always  ordered  me.     What  am  1 2n 

The  Jesuit,  with  stifled  emotion,  and  it  was  the  only 
occasion  on  which  his  voice  betrayed  it,  and  with  a 
stern  countenance,  answered — "You  are  the  brother 
of  Louise;  and  an  excommunicated  heretic  !"  Diga-  u 
instantly  retoited — "Bravo!  I  glory  in  your  brand 
of  the  heresy  and  the  farce  of  the  excommunication? 
for  the  comfort  and  advantages  of  the  relationship." 

"  It  was  no  part  of  my  object — solemnly  but  kindly 
rejoined  the  Pretre — to  introduce  this  point.  I  come 
on  behalf  of  your  former  friends,  to  discharge  my  duty, 
Your  desire  to  hear  of  Louise  as  betokening  a  broth- 
erly affection  is  satisfactory  ;  and  as  the  lawyer  has 
apprised  you,  once  more  yon  shall  hear  of  her ;  I  will 
not  engage  that  you  ever  see  her  again  !  this  may  not 
be  practicable.  Those  persons  who  have  hitherto  in- 
terested themselves  for  you,  on  account  of  the  recent 
events,  are  obliged  to  remain  hereafter  disconnected 
from  all  your  concerns  ;  but  as  they  cannot  even  wish 
you  to  be  more  wretched  than  your  heresies  will  render 
you,  I  am  directed  to  offer  you  this  as  a  remembran- 
cer. It  is  the  last  pecuniary  favor  which  you  may 
expect  to  receive  from  them — having  presented  Diganu 
a  large  parcel,  he  added — but  now  I  have  one  requisi- 
tion to  make,  and  I  will  see  whether  a  heretic  can  keep 


117 

his  faith  with  a  Roman  Catholic  Priest."  Diganu  and 
Chretien  stared  with  uneasiness  at  this  implied  novel 
exaction.  a  It  is  believed — continued  the  Pretre— that 
Louise  has  communicated  to  you  a  number  of  false- 
hoods respecting  the  Priests  and  the  religieuses— he 
then  fixed  his  searching  eye  upon  Diganu  and  Chre= 
tien,  and  asked — is  it  so  V 

Chretien  replied — "  To  justify  herself  for  the  dan» 
gerous  condition  in  which  we  discovered  her.  she  stated3 
that  she  had  been  placed  in  a  very  distressing  situation, 
and  that  she  had  escaped  in  the  commotion  occasioned 
by  a  fire  in  the  house,  where  she  was  involuntarily 
detained  for  pollution."  The  Pretre  unguardedly  asked 
—"did  she  inform  you  in  whose  house  it  was,  and  the 
name  of  the  resident  Priest  ?"  thus  virtually  admitting 
the  truth  of  her  statement,  and  implying  his  own 
knowledge  of  the  fact. 

"Not  at  all — answered  Chretien — it  was  only  the 
tast  night  before  we  went  to  Lorette  that  she  mention- 
ed it,  and  although  she  identified  and  pointed  out  to 
us  the  parties  in  the  church,  yet  she  declared,  that  she 
could  form  no  accurate  conception  of  the  parish."  The 
Jesuit  quickly  rejoined — "  Assez,  enough  1  My  object 
in  noticing  this  matter  is  to  engage  your  promise,  that 
no  mention  shall  be  made  by  you,  of  any  calumny 
which  she  recounted  in  her  delirium."  Diganu  in- 
*-tantly  exclaimed — "  delirium  !  she  was  always  sensi 
bid  when  with  us  J"  The  Pxiest  remarked — a  Cela 
10* 


118 

n'importe,  no  matter,  all  these  circumstances  hence- 
forth are  to  remain  buried  in  oblivion." 

"  Certement,  certainly — said  Diganu — but  Chretien 
and  myself  are  not  to  be  molested  for  our  religious 
opiniorib  and  practices,  although  we  know,  that  it  is 
your  doctrine  to  keep  no  faith  with  heretics." 

"  That  contract  is  already  decided — added  the  Pre 
fcre — faith  in  this  instance  will  be  kept  with  you :  and 
now  we  part  most  probably  fo»-  ever.     Take  my  advice 
young  men,  you  are  inexperienced  in  the  ways  of  the 
world.     Contract  not  large  debts.     Entangle  not  your- 
selves with  securityships.     Never  play  at  games  of 
chance  for  money.     Be  upon  your  guard  respecting 
the  females  whom  you  may  select  for  your  wives.    But 
above  all  things,  say  nothing  about  Nuns,  Priests,  and 
the   church.     Your  friends,  in  any  emergency,   will 
assist  you.     Be  cautious   in   your  associations  ;  and 
remember,   that  you  will  always  be  strictly  watched 
Louise's  comfort  and  your  own  safety  essentially  depend 
upon  your  prudence — he  offered  Chretien  his  hand — I 
know  you  well,  and  am  willing  yet  to  serve  you,  Chre- 
tien— he  remarked — maintain  your  affection  and  friend- 
ship for  Diganu.  Adieu !  God  bless  you."  Then  turning 
•  o  Diganu,  who  coldly  accepted  his  proffered  salutation  f 
lie  said  tenderly  and  seriously — "  Diganu,  I  have  long 
cared  for  your  welfare;  but  now  my  duties  in  that  res 
pect  are  ended,     You  have  ample  means  to  establish 
a  comfortable  business.     Remember   that  Rohoirsic 
Will  ever  be  your  friend  in  need.     Give  yourself  no 


anxiety  for  Louise.  She  is  safe,  and  as  comfortable  ar 
she  can  be.  I  shall  see  you  again  I  hope,  before  you 
or  I  leave  this  world" — he  laid  his  left  hand  on  Diganu'e 
head,  with  apparent  fervor  pronounced  his  priestly 
"Pax  tecum,  peace  be  with  thee," — and  immediately 
disappeared. 

From  that  evening,  years  revolved,  and  Diganu'e 
life  was  almost  an  entire  disconnection  from  all  man- 
kind, except  as  the  mere  routine  of  commercial  busi- 
ness produced  a  temporary  association.  His  soul  wa? 
almost  circumscribed  within  himself.  By  his  anti- 
social suspicious  of  all  who  were  the  minions  of  the 
Roman  Priesthood,  he  had  contracted  the  habits  of  a 
recluse  with  none  of  his  natural  feelings  ;  and  com 
bined  the  anchoret's  reserve  with  an  enlarged  philan- 
thropy, in  a  situation,  where  every  thing  around  him 
repressed  attachment  and  excited  disgust.  His  only 
companion  was  Chretien.  Louise's  bible  was  his  chief 
treasure  and  delight.  But  his  constant  refuge  and 
faithful,  unchanging  friend  was  the  Father  of  our  Lore 
Jesus  Christ. 


NARRATIVE   OF  LOUISE 


*  Where  am  I  ?  life's  current  faintly  flowing* 
Brings  the  welcome  warning  of  release  ; 
Struck  with  death  ;  ah  !   whither  am  I  going*? 
All  is  well — my  spirit  parts  in  peace," 

The  details  which  follow  are  the  abridged  contents  oi 
i  manuscript  that  unfolded  the  history  of  Louise  after 
her  heart-rending  separation  from  Diganu, 

a  Before  these  papers  are  seen  by  you,  my  beloved 
brother;  your  Louise  no  longer  will  be  a  resident  upon 
earth  ;  and  that  you  will  obtain  a  glimpse  of  my  cha= 
Facter  and  experience  subsequent  to  our  unnatural  and 
wicked  disunion  is  the  result  of  circumstances  which 
shall  now  be  revealed.  It  is  superfluous  to  retrace  the 
events  of  that  terrifying  morn,  when  I  was  dragged 
away  from  your  protection ;  but  it  is  consolatory,  that 
you  were  not  apprized  of  the  wicked  object,  as  in  that 
case,  a  mortal  conflict  alone  would  have  terminated  the 
scene.  After  our  final  adieu,  I  became  totally  uncon- 
scious, and  was  hurried  into  the  carriole  which  had 
drawn  up  to  transport  me  away?  altogether  insensible 
to  the  proceedings  of  those  who  had  seized  me.  When 
I  first  clearly  realized  my  situation,  we  were  not  more 
*r\an  Uvo  miles  from  Quebec  ;  and  hurrying  along  the 


121 

load  with  ali  possible  speed  to  the  General  Hospital^ 
where  I  was  transferred  to  the  insane  department ;  and 
during  my  detention,  in  which,  I  saw  no  person  but  the 
woman  who,  at  Lorette  affirmed  that  you  are  my 
brother ;  and  the  Priest  from  whom  I  had  before  es- 
caped. The  true  but  agonizing  reason  for  our  separa- 
tion was  soon  divulged.  Time  had  neither  changed 
the  Priest's  design,  nor  diminished  the  willingness  of 
his  tool  to  aid  him  in  effecting  his  base  purpose.  During 
a  month  probably,  l^wa*  tortured  by  their  constant 
artifices.  Those  of  the  female  were  kind  and  insinua- 
ting. The  Jesuit's  stratagems  were  mixed  with  harsh- 
ness and  alarm.  I  resented  the  female  decoys  as 
grossly  unnatural  and  insulting ;  the  Priest's  menaces, 
I  scorned  and  defied.  Undoubtedly,  in  the  friendless 
and  destitute  condition  in  which  they  had  placed  me, 
his  treachery  would  have  been  executed,  as  1  after- 
wards discovered,  had  not  your  threatened  law-suits 
placed  all  the  actors  in  a  most  perplexing  embarrass- 
ment. The  miserable  Nun's  apparent  blandishments 
Were  obviously  designed  as  a  contrast  to  the  Pretre's 
terrific  impudence,  to  effect  by  vitiating  and  seducing 
wiles  that  which  could  not  be  achieved  by  intimi- 
dation ;  so  that  from  fear  of  him,  I  might  be  ensnared 
by  her ;  or  if  I  resisted  her  entanglements,  that  I  might 
be  entrapped  by  his  artful  and  various  snares, 

The  Jesuit  constantly  had  two  topics  with  which  to 
daunt  me.  My  well  known  heresy,  and  the  dreadful 
sentence  of  excommunication,  which  he  ever  portrayed 
in  the  most  appalling  features  and  from  whichj  his  grand 


122 

object  was  to  show,  that  I  could  be  relieved  solely  by  his 
means,  and  therefore  I  ought  to  secure  his  favorable 
interposition,  the  terms  and  price  of  which  I  knew. 
My  principles  I  defended.  The  censures  of  his  Church 
I  ridiculed.  At  his  favor  I  scoffed.  And  in  reference 
to  his  excommunication,  I  remarked — "I  am  in  your 
power;  imprisoned  in  the  maniac's  cell ;  weakened  by 
continual  privations  and  uninterrupted  ill  usage.  You 
can  forcibly  outrage  and  violate  my  person;  you  can 
deprive  me  of  my  fuciiiiies;  or  you  can  secretly  mur- 
der me :  but  you  can  neither  stupify  my  conscience, 
nor  corrupt  my  heart."  At  other  times,  he  charged 
me  with  robbing  his  house,  and  setting  fire  to  it.  He 
would  denounce  against  me  all  the  severest  punishments 
of  the  law,  and  from  those  fearful  penalties  he  engaged 
to  secure  me,  only  for  the  voluntary  sacrifice  of  my 
personal  purity.  "  Nothing — I  often  remarked  to  him, 
would  rejoice  me  so  much  as  to  be  delivered  up  to  the 
civil  authority  upon  these  charges.  In  any  possible 
emergence,  my  situation  would  be  amended.  I  might 
be  acquitted,  in  spite  of  all  your  arts  and  the  witnesses 
whom  you  could  suborn  to  perjme  themselves.  In  any 
case,  I  should  be  released  from  your  ungodly  fangs.  If 
they  condemned  me,  the  verdict  would  be  given  solely 
from  defect  of  evidence,  and  they  would  not  be  criminal ; 
but  you  would  be  guilty  of  wilful  murder.  At  all 
events,  I  would  rather  trust  in  the  God  of  Providence 
to  deliver  me,  who  already  once  has  mercifully  rescued 
me  from  your  wicked  contrivances,  or  even  be  hanged 
in  innocence ;  than  remain  in  wretched  solitude  unde? 
yem  dangerous  control." 


123 

Thus  passed  my  daysj  with  no  prospect  of  escape 
from  my  anguish.  But  at  length,  after  suitable  prepara* 
tion,  for  form's  sake,  the  Surgeon  who  had  attended 
me  at  Lorette  was  admitted  ;  and  I  was  transferred  to 
another  apartment,  but  in  perfect  seclusion.  I  was 
speedily  after,  despatched  to  Montreal,  with  the  strictest, 
injunctions  of  the  closest  confinement.  Subsequently 
I  was  remanded  to  Quebec,  and  was  introduced  to  your 
Counsellor  ;  who,  unknown  to  you,  would  not  consent 
to  any  pacific  arrangement,  until  he  had  seen  me  and 
obtained  all  necessary  explanations  from  your  Louise 
herself.  To  his  inflexibility,  I  owe  all  the  little  per- 
sonal safety  and  comfort  which  I  have  since  enjoyed. 
He  contracted  for  my  residence  in  Quebec ;  for  an 
annual  interview  with  me  ;  for  the  occasional  sight  of 
me  at  the  grate ;  for  my  exemption  from  all  trouble 
and  persecution  on  account  of  my  religious  principles  ; 
for  my  perfect  security  from  all  attempts  to  assail  my 
modesty  ;  for  the  free  use  of  writing  materials,  and  the 
undisturbed  possession  of  whatever  books  according  to 
my  desires,  he  should  procure  for  me  ;  for  a  final  inter- 
view with  you,  if  practicable,  when  near  death  ;  and 
for  the  eventual  transmission  to  you,  of  whatever  I 
pleased  to  designate  after  my  release  from  this  vale  of 
tears.  Notwithstanding  these  privileges  were  solemnly 
guaranteed  to  me  ;  yet  as  they  were  most  reluctantly 
granted,  as  I  was  denounced  as  an  incorrigible  heretic, 
and  as  I  was  a  resident  where  every  person  was  de- 
cidedly inimical  to  me  ;  my  existence  from  that  period 
was,  of  course,  an  almost  unvarying  round  of  perplex- 
ity and  disquietude  ;  except  as  it  was  alleviated  by  fhe 


124 

consolatory  truths  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  I  was 
forced  to  engage  in  the  most  menial  offices  ;  and 
although  the  absolute  letter  of  your  lawyer's  compact 
was  never  so  outrageously  infringed,  that  he  could 
properly  have  declared  that  his  silence  should  be  termi- 
nated, because  they  had  nullified  their  part  of  the 
agreement;  yet  every  cunning  artifice  was  adopted, 
that  I  might  be  induced  to  become  altogether  like  them^ 
selves. 

The  interior  of  a  convent  is  the  sepulchre  of  good- 
ness7  and  the  castle  of  miser]/.  Within  its  unsanc- 
tified  domain,  youth  withers ;  knowledge  is  extin- 
guished ;  usefulness  is  entombed  ;  and  religion  ex- 
pires. The  life  of  a  Nun  is  a  course  of  exterior 
solemn  mummery,  from  which  all  that  is  lovely  is 
ejected  ;  and  under  the  vizor  dwells  every  thing  loath- 
some and  sorrowful.  All  that  Marguerite  implied  and 
described  to  me  is  practised  ;  and  the  chief  solicitudes 
and  contrivances  consist  in  their  efforts  to  conceal  from 
the  world  at  large,  the  secrets  which  appertain  to 
the  direful  prison.  As  I  was  too  much  hated  to  be' 
regarded  as  of  any  consequence,  and  was  so  nar- 
rowly watched  that  nothing  less  than  the  sudden 
and  unforseen  exercise  of  the  power  of  the  Goverment 
could  have  held  intercourse  with  me,  except  by  the 
cursory  recognition  and  the  annual  interview  with 
your  counsellor  and  friend  on  each  New  Year's  day, 
and  this  only  in  the  presence  of  the  Superieure.  ;  no 
opportunity  was  afforded  me  to  make  any  communis 
cation,  except  in  the  packet  sealed  for  you,  and  which 
the  lawyer  was  bound  to  reserve  until  my  decease. 


125 

However,  my  life  was  not  so  fraught  with  anguish  as 
might  have  been  anticipated  ;  not  from  any  defect  in 
their  torturous  ingenuity  to  diminish  its  comforts  and  to 
aggravate  its*  hardships  ;   but  I  had  found  '•  the  pearl 
of  great  price ;"  and  in  him  1  found  a  never  failing 
and  unchangeable  friend.     Often  have  I  experienced 
the  fulfilment  of  the  promise  ;  "  as  thy  days   are,  so 
shall  thy  strength  be :"  and  I  can  testify,  during  the 
tedious  years  of  my  bondage  and  imprisonment  within 
the  walls  of  the  Nunnery,  that  the  word  of  the  Lord 
is  true  ;  "  I  will  never  leave  thee,   nor  forsake  thee.57 
The  benevolence  of  your  Counsellor  towards  me  in  no 
point  of  view   was  more   advantageous,  than   in  the 
absolute  claim  which  he  made,  that  I  should  be   at 
liberty  to  peruse  the  Bible,  and  any  other  books  which 
I  could  procure.     He  always  presented  me  a  few  vo- 
lumes upon  his  visit  in  exchange  for  others  ;  the  whole 
of  which  books  will  be  your  portion  as  remembrancers 
of  your  Louise.     To  adjust  this  point  involved   great 
difficulties      The  Bishop  and  the  Chaplain,  with  the 
other  Priests,  by  every  species  of  crafty  management, 
endeavored   to   cancel   this   clause    of    the   contract, 
|  Rohoirsic  was  immovable.     °  1  am  willing — he  sternly 
remarked — that  no  other  persons  shall  even  be  acquaint- 
ed with  the  fact  that  Louise  possesses  those  books  ; 
but  I  never  will  consent,  that  she  shall  be  divested  of 
all  printed  associates,  when  a  living  companion  cannot 
be  found  lor  her."     His  peremptory  tone,  in  connection 
with  tljeir  dread  lest  their  ungodlinesss  hould  be  pre- 
mulged,   finally    urged    their    compliance    with  hk 
vexatious  demand. 

11 


12G 

The  most  painful  of  all  my  mental  exercises  flowed, 
not  only  from  my  being  so  completely  isolated,  but 
also  from  the  contempt  with  which  all  the  inhabitants  of 
the  convent  incessantly  assailed  me.     Age  and  youth, 
mock   gravity    with   thoughtless   levity,   hypocritical 
grimace  and   open  indulgence,  infidel  hardihood  with 
ceremonial  apishness,  the  Jesuit  ( 'haplain's  insolence, 
with  that  of  his  associated   visiting  Priests,  the  mimic 
affectation  of  the    Keligieuses,  and  the  authoritative 
malignity  of  the  Superieure,  all  were  ever   arrayed 
against  your  defenceless  sister.     This  was  the  most 
difficult  of  all  my  conquests.     Their  stupid  pretences  at 
an  argument  did  not  in  the  least  disturb  me.    Their  de- 
nunciation of  judgments  against  all   heretics  served 
equally  to  show  their  ignorance  and  bigotry,  and  only 
excited  my  compassion.     And  even  their  tasks,  severe 
as  they  sometimes  were,  tended  to  encourage  my  forti- 
tude and  produce  additional  energy.     But  when  the 
youth  who  were  taught  and  actuated  by  them,  many 
of  whom  doubtless  were  their  own  daughters,  all  com- 
bined to  point  the  finger  of  scorn  and   to  spurn  at  me 
with  their   puny  raillery,    then  I   have   felt  monified 
and   excited.     To  master   this  lesson  required    much 
time  ;  but  one  of  my  best  supports  while  acquiring  it, 
next  to  the  truth  of  the  sacred  oracles,  was  the  lawyer's 
assurance,   that   my  brother  and  Chretien  remained 
steadfast  and  immovable  int  he  faith  and  hope  of  the 
Saviour.     Eventually,  however,  I  was  enabled  to  van- 
quish all  my  arrogant  sensibilities  ;  and  as  the  Psalmist 
observes,  I  hope,  in  some  measure, that  "  I  behaved  and 
quieted  myself  as  a  child  that  is  weaned  of  his  mother ; 


127 

my  soul  was  even  as  a  weaned  child."  From  that 
period,  I  was  enabled  to  cast  myself  and  all  my  cares 
unreservedly  upon  the  Lord.  The  language  of  David 
was  my  uniform,  and  I  think,  my  predominant  feel- 
ing— "  My  soul,  wait  thou  only  upon  God  ;  for  my  ex- 
pectation is  from  him  He  only  is  my  rock  and  my 
solvation."  I  had  yielded  up  my  brother;  and  with 
you,  I  resigned  all  that  had  ever  truly  cemented  me 
with  earth.  My  constant  prayer  ascended  to  our 
Father  in  heaven  for  grace  for  myself,  that  I  might 
forbear  and  bear  all  that  God  permitted  ;  and  for  you, 
that  when  we  ceased  to  live  in  this  world,  we  might 
have  our  eternal  "  inheritance  among  the  sanctified.55 

It  is  difficult  to  enumerate  the  varied  causes,  attri- 
butes and  effects  of  delirium  ;  but  I  am  convinced, 
that  the  whole  conventual  system  involves  a  species  of 
infatuation  bordering  on  lunacy,  unless  it  is  more 
appropriately  transferred  to  vice.  Jesuitical  artifices 
and  seductions,  by  which  persons  are  insnared,  may 
mislead  and  enchain  ignorant  and  inexperienced  youth 
into  monastic  life,  as  no  doubt  they  would  have  entan- 
gled your  Louise,  had  not  Marguerite  premonished  me, 
To  a  junior,  whom  the  Priests  and  Nuns  are  anxious 
to  cajole,  nothing  can  surpass  their  enticements. 
Youth  merely  glance  at  the  surface,  and  all  appears 
robed  in  the  very  witchery  of  delight.  To  them  a 
Nunnery  seems  the  haven  of  quietude,  the  garden  of 
an  earthly  paradise,  and  the  sanctuary  of  all  that  is 
devotional  and  spiritual.  The  scene  is  a  genuine 
theatrical  exhibition,  in  which  the  actors  appear  to  be 


128 

decorated  in  all  the  grander  characteristics  of  humanity, 
developing  its  loftiest  conceptions,  and  its  most  refined 
emotions.  Those  Postulames  and  Novices  alone  whc 
are  previously  prepared,  are  admitted  to  survey  the 
interior.  The  blasphemy,  the  wretchedness,  the  coarse 
manners,  the  shameless  loquacity,  and  the  bare  faced 
sacrifices  of  truth  and  virtue,  all  are  obscured,  until 
the  parties  either  already  have  engaged,  or  are  willing 
unscrupulously  to  mingle  witl.  the  others,  in  their  hypo- 
critical  sanctity  and  sensual  indulgences.  But  the 
toilsome  uniformity  of  the  monastic  life  renders  it  still 
more  objectionable  in  principle,  and  insupportable  in 
experience.  The  unchanging  routine  of  daily  cere- 
monial  forms,  equally  unintelligible  and  unmeaning, 
only  increased  or  diminished,  according  to  the  estab- 
lished prescriptions,  counteracts  all  moral  and  intellec- 
tual energy.  This  deadening  system  was  more  odious 
to  me,  because  it  opposed  all  my  views  ;  and  the  pasa- 
lyzing  routine  of  the  convent  was  augmented  by  my 
alienation  even  from  the  only  alternations  that  relieved 
the  dullness  of  the  tedious  hours.  The  ordinary  course 
of  a  Nun  is  not  less  indefensible  upon  physical,  than 
upon  moral  principles.  But  it  is  the  high  curse  of 
popery,  that  it  adapts  itself  to  every  character  however 
unseemly,  and  to  all  conditions  ho  ever  unnatural. 
By  its  dispensing  qualifications,  it  is  not  only  accom- 
modated to  each  individual,  but  it  can  be  suited  to  every 
possible  emergency.  It  can  abrogate  all  laws,  trans 
form  vice  into  virtue  relax  it  sclaims  when  a  Priest  re- 
quires gratification ;  increase  its  demands  when  a  Jesuit 
desires  revenge  ;  and  by  its  variety  of  metamorphoses^ 


129 

can  command  what  it  lists;  and  in  its  plenitude  of 
power,  will  justify  those  who  obey  its  orders  in  any 
rebellious  act  against  God,  and  in  all  heinous  crimi- 
nality towards  man.  The  dull  monotony  of  the 
Nunnery  was  also  very  pernicious  to  my  health  and 
constitution ;  because  I  had  no  stated  periods  of  ait 
and  proper  exercise  allotted  to  me.  To  understand  the 
views  of  the  world  without  was  prohibited  to  your 
Louise.  If  any  article  of  information  became  known 
to  me^  it  was  accidental ;  and  to  all  intents,  I  was 
immured  in  a  large  dungeon,  with  no  expectation  of 
amendment  or  release,  and  with  no  earthly  companion 
from  whom  I  could  experience  the  least  sympathy,  ex- 
cept when  the  lawyer  presented  me  his  New  Year's 
congratulations ;  and  with  no  solace,  except  in  the  Scrip- 
tures and  at  the  throne  of  grace.  In  all  my  variety  of 
grief,  however,  I  found  an  assured  refuge  in  God,  who 
had  so  mercifully  delivered  me,  and  who  often  by  his 
spirit,  transformed  the  gloom  of  my  dreary  solitude  into 
the  very  light  of  life,  and  devout  communion  with  him 
and  with  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

The  delineation  of  one  day  in  the  convent  will 
give  you  a  history  of  the  whole,  with  very  little  altera- 
tion. While  the  Religieuses  and  their  dependents 
were  mumbling  over  their  Ave  Marys,  and  theii  matin 
rosaries,  I  read  my  Bible,  and  attempted  to  pray  to 
the  Father  of  Light,  the  Giver  of  every  good  and 
perfect  gift.  In  reference  to  their  food,  I  was  obliged 
to  partake  according  to  their  unscriptural  and  absurd 
customs;  but  this  I  considered  to  be  unimportant, 
11* 


130 

Their  idolatrous  festivals  to  me  were  days  of  real  eti 
joyment,  because  while  undergoing-  their  pretended 
penance,  or  revelling  in  their  sensuality,  I  was  left 
alone.  In  the  same  manner,  when  they  were  engag- 
ed at  their  vespers,  I  occupied  the  evening  hour  in  my 
humble  devotions.  The  genuine  characteristics  of 
monastic  life  chiefly  vary  with  the  constitutional  tem- 
peraments of  the  Nuns,  ail  which  are  as  accurately 
known  to  the  Priests  as  themselves.  By  their  artifices 
at  concession,  they  unravel  every  character,  and  trans- 
form each  individual  into  an  instrument  to  subserve 
their  unholy  designs.  However  dissonant  in  tempet 
and  pursuit,  all  are  moulded  according  to  the  Pretre'e 
will  A  Jesuit  Priest  can  form  no  correct  idea  of  re* 
iationships.  His  whole  soul  is  centered  in  himself  and 
in  his  craft.  To  him  all  the  tender  charities  of  life 
are  utterly  unknown  :  and  as  his  assumed  religion  is 
nothing  more  than  a  cloak  to  deceive  the  world,  and 
under  its  concealment  to  gratify  his  own  wishes,  the 
practice  of  confession  enables  him  to  grasp  every  thing 
which  he  may  choose.  My  knowledge  of  them  con- 
vinces me,  that  very  tew  Roman  Priests  indeed  now 
exist,  who  are  not  determined  infidels.  This  doctrine 
they  teach  their  besotted  disciples,  especially  the  girls- 
whom  when  young,  they  mark  for  their  prey.  In 
every  form,  they  ascertain  their  ruling  dispositions;  as 
they  grow  up,  they  gradually  acquire  over  them  a  com- 
plete ascendancy,  behave  to  them  with  a  familiarity 
apparently  only  paternal,  imbue  th<  m  with  all  over- 
powering ideas  of  their  priestly  indisputable  authority, 
infuse  a  high  estimate  of  the  value  of  their  pardon  of 


131 

sin,  and  of  the  absolute  necessity  of  obedience  to  them 
in  all  things,  attract  their  regard  and  affection  by 
trifling  presents,  accompanied  with  tender  endear- 
ments ;  and  then  with  the  aid  of  their  female  seduc- 
ing adepts,  fi  ;d  the  deluded  silly  creature  an  easy  and 
willing  victim.  Often  are  the  young  women  made  to 
believe,  that  they  are  an  inferior  race  to  the  men,  and 
only  created  to  administer  to  their  enjoyments,  that  all 
their  friends  and  relatives  are  equally  frail,  submissive 
and  attached  tot  he  Pretres,and  in  caseof  obstinate  resis- 
tance, then  they  are  reminded  of  all  the  matters  which 
they  have  acknowledged  at  confession,  and  menaced 
with  a  public  exposuie  of  crimes,  of  which  not  only 
were  they  incapable  of  being  guilty,  but  of  which  they 
had  never  heard,  nor  formed  an  idea.  This  is  the 
general  result  of  the  horrible  system  of  confession. 
Artful  questions  are  asked,  the  purport  of  which  an 
innocent  girl  does  not  even  comprehend.  She  learns, 
however,  from  the  Priest,  that  she  has  acknowledged 
the  commission  of  sins,  for  which  she  is  directed  to 
perform  an  impracticable  penance.  This  only  adds 
to  her  perplexity,  and  to  escape  from  her  dilemma,  she 
finally  commutes  her  penance,  by  actually  participat- 
ing with  the  Pretre  in  that  crime;  which  he  alone  had 
taught  her. 

In  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the  resurrection  of 
the  body,  and  the  future  judgment,  none  of  the  Nuns 
whom  I  ever  hear!  tulk  at  all  believed,  except  a  few, 
who  for  their  gratuitous  austerities  and  reserve  were 
considered  as  gloomy  fanatics,  and  who  were  humored 


132 

in  their  own  pursuits.  It  is  one  chief  part  of  the 
mystery  of  iniquity,  that  the  Priests,  knowing  all  the 
women's  characters,  and  inclinations,  and  doings,  re- 
tain them  all  in  subjection  from  fear  of  each  other, 
and  thus  unconsciously,  and  doubtless  often  unin- 
tentionally, they  assist  the  grand  scheme  of  luxurious 
pleasure  and  priestly  aggrandizement.  Their  con- 
scientious principles,  so  far  as  they  have  any,  their 
moral  habits  and  predilections,  and  their  sincerity  and 
usefulness,  all  are  absorbed  in  a  degrading  sense  of 
inferiority,  and  in  a  profound  subjection  to  priestly  ar- 
romance  and  enticements;  for  of  tender,  affectionate, 
and  domestic  relative  sensibilities,  they  are  totally 
divested. 

The  seclusion,  inactivity,  and  nervous  depression 
which  I  experienced,  were  unfavorable  to  my  health  ; 
and  the  symptoms  of  constitutional  debility  that  I 
began  to  manifest,  were  viewed  with  avowed  satisfac- 
tion, both  by  the  Nuns  and  the  Priests.  After  I  had 
been  their  prisoner  about  seven  years,  I  perceived  that 
the  derangement  of  my  bodily  system  rendered  me 
more  susceptible  of  imaginative  impressions,  and  less 
capable  of  the  services  which  I  had  been  coerced  to  per- 
form. The  change  however  was  very  gradual;  but 
on  the  eighth  anniversary  of  the  Counsellor's  visit,  he 
tenderly  noticed  my  emaciated  appearance  ;  and  upon 
hearing  the  report  of  the  Physician,  whom  he  directed 
to  examine  my  state,  he  became  convinced,  that  I 
should  at  no  very  distant  period  dwindle  into  "  the 
house  appointed  for  all  living." 


133 

Several  months  passed  away  without  any  perceptible 
alteration,  until  one  morning  I  was  suddenly  summon 
ed  into  the  Superieure's  apartment  ;  and  there  to  my 
joyful  surprise,  and  it  was  a  perfect  cordial  to  my  heart, 
I  beheld  my  friend  Rohoirsic.  After  kindly  expressing 
his  delight  that  I  appeared  unchanged- — "  I  have  visit- 
ed you,  Louise — he  remarked — to  propose  to  you  a 
change  of  habitation  for  a  short  period.  You  will  live 
exactly  the  same  ;  but  fresh  air  may  benefit  you.  I 
trust  that  you  will  have  no  objection."  To  his  offer  I 
replied — "  1  am  not  my  own  director ;  you  know 
who  manages  my  concerns,  I  never  did.  To  me  the 
place  of  residence  is  immaterial,  as  long  as  I  am  under 
your  kind  surveillance.51 — Rohoirsic  gave  me  his  hand, 
while  he  nodded  a  smiling  assent—"  Air,  medicine 
and  exercise — t  added — all  will  be  too  late  applied  to 
restore  my  dilapidated  constitution  :  and  even  could 
they  be  essentially  beneficial,  except  as  it  is  our  duty 
to  use  every  means  to  prolong  life  for  usefulness  in 
the  Lord's  service  ;  to  a  child  of  sorrow  and  of  soli- 
tude, like  me,  without  any  opportunity  to  do  good,  ot 
the  hope  of  ever  attaining  any  capacity  for  it,  mere 
bodily  relief  is  unavailing."  The  lawyer  rejoined— 
••  To  benefit  you  exclusively,  is  not  our  design.  You 
may  very  essentially  serve  a  fellow  creature  in  great 
and  peculiar  distress.  Agonized  in  mind,  and  diseased 
in  her  frame,  she  wishes  for  a  kindly  attendant,  and  it 
is  believed  that  you  will  exactly  suit.  You  will  be  re- 
quired to  execute  no  menial  or  disagreeable  offices.  On 
ly  two  things  are  claimed  of  you,  that  you  shall  divulge 
nothing  that  you  see  or  hear,  even  to  the  Superieure  : 


134 

here  he  tenderly  pressed  my  hand,  with  a  look  of  af- 
fectionate regard — and  that  you  shall  make  no  attempt 
to  escape  from  my  superintendence."  An  unwonted 
smile  almost  unconsciously  overspread  my  face  at  this 
novel  exaction,  while  I  s»id  to  him — "  The  last  require- 
ment, you  may  be  fully  assured,  1  shall  never  trans- 
gress. Thai  you  have  so  long  and  faithfully  interested 
yourself  for  me  is  one  of  the  strongest  consolations  in 
reference  to  earth  and  time,  and  the  loss  of  the  same 
care  and  kindness  would  be  my  death-stroke.  With 
regard  to  the  question  of  my  removal,  I  shall  leave  the 
decision  of  it  to  yourself,  as  the  only  competent  judge." 
"Point  dutout;  nut  at  ail — answered  Rohoirsic — it 
is  altogether  a  matter  of  sensibility.  Yon  are  re- 
quested to  perform  an  act  of  charity  towards  an  elderly 
woman,  who,  it.  is  presumed,  cannot  long  survive  the 
combined  ravages  of  a  bodily  consumption  and  mental 
grief.  By  your  sympathies,  you  may  be  able  to  sooth 
her  in  her  pains,  and  to  allay  the  pungent  bitterness 
under  which  she  appears  to  labor.  No  person,  there- 
fore,  is  so  good  a  judge  as  yourself,  whether  your  feel- 
ings will  admit  you  to  undertake  the  office  proposed." 
I  replied — "  My  feelings  promptly  decide  me  to  un- 
dertake all  practicable  duties,  however  self-denying,  if 
I  can  impart  comfort  to  any  person,  letting  aside 
these  personal  considerations,  what  do  you  advise  me?" 
The  Superieure  here  impertinently  obtruded  her  re- 
marks. "It  is  preferable  for  you  to  go,  Louise;  there 
are  peculiar  ieasons  which  cannot  now  be  communica- 
ted, to  induce  your  compliance  with  this  request." 
Bohoirsic  pressed  my  hand,  and  to  my  inquiring  look 


135 

silently  bowed  his  head.  Upon  which  I  immediately 
answered — "  De  tout  mon  cceur,  with  all  my  heart.  I 
shall  be  ready  :  when  ?"  After  a  pause  of  considera- 
tion, Rohoirsic  addressed  the  Superieure — tt  I  shall  be 
here  in  the  morning  at  five.  You  will  remember, 
that  Louise  must  take  with  her  all  her  books  and  per- 
sonal conveniences."  With  a  haughty  air,  the  Supe- 
rieure answered — "  Oertement,  certainly.  I  shall  take 
care  that  Louise  is  deprived  of  nothing  which  she 
desires  to  remove." 

As  soon  as  Rohoirsic  had  withdrawn,  I  was  com- 
manded with  a  forbidding  chilliness  to  expedite  my 
arrangements,  and  in  the  most  perfect  secresy  ;  that  no 
person,  except  the  Superieure,  might  know  of  my  de- 
parture. Precisely  at  the  hour,  just  before  the  dawn  of 
day,  my  friend,  your  counsellor  appeared,  i  present 
ed  the  Superieure  my  adieu  ;  and  never  since  have  I 
beheld  her  or  thedetested  convent.  On  the  third  evening 
I  was  inclosed  within  the  walls  of  the  Nunnery  at, 
Trois  Rivieres.  I  >uring  the  journey,  Rohoirsic  much 
gratified  me  by  the  information  which  he  imparted. 
"  You  will  be  entirely  unknown,  Louise — he  assured 
me — you  are  represented  to  the  Superieure  at  Three 
Rivers,  not  as  an  excommunicated  incorrigible  apostate 
from  their  Church,  to  he  scorned  and  loathed,  but  as  a 
hereditary  heretic  to  he  pitied.  Indeed  your  case  is 
stated  to  be  hopeless  ;  but  it  is  extenuated  on  account  of 
very  peculiar  griefs,  which  have  riveted  your  wrong 
opinions,  so  that  although  you  are  very  sensible  upon 
all  other  matters  and  inoffensive  as  a  child  ;  yet  upon 


136 

the  subject  of  religion,  you  are  flighty,  very  stubborn; 
and  consequently  must  be  left  alone.  TheSuperieure 
by  s  been  apprized,  that  you  never  mention  your  opinions, 
unless  other  persons  thoughtlessly  introduce  any  objec- 
tions to  them ;  and  upon  this  point  she  is  cautioned  upon 
no  pretext,  to  have  any  intercourse  with  you.  The 
lady  also  who  wishes  for  your  company  .  has  been  in- 
structed to  believe,  that  you  are  naturally  very  kiud; 
and  that  your  acceptance  of  the  proposal  would  prove, 
that  you  would  not  be  insensible  to  her  necessities  and 
sorrows."  1  was  received  with  much  cordiality.  My 
protector  before  he  left  the  convent,  thus  addressed 
me — "  You  will  inform  the  Superieure  without  hesita- 
tion of  your  wants  ;  in  the  supply  of  which  you  will 
be  anply  indulged.  Some  trifles  have  been  provided 
for  you,  which  are  already  in  your  proposed  apartment. 
I  shall  see  you  during  the  holidays — he  kindly  pressed 
my  hand — till  then,  adieu  !" 

Since  I  was  forced  away  from  you,  my  brother,  this 
was  the  commencement  of  the  only  truly  peaceful 
part  of  the  years  which  have  elapsed.  The  journey 
had  refreshed  my  spirits,  and  the  change  was  other- 
wise beneficial.  1  encountered  no  vexatious  interrup- 
tions. 1  was  not  encircled  by  discordant  inmates.  I 
received  no  insults.  I  was  exempt  from  fatiguing 
duties,  which  were  too  laborious  for  my  strength,  and 
oppressive  upon  my  spirits.  And  for  a  short  season,  I 
was  in  personal  comfort  and  tolerable  health.  Often 
have  I  endeavored  to  transcribe  my  occasional  memo- 
randa ;   but  the  internal  conflict  produced  almost  too 


137 

much  agitation  for  the  task,  so  that  you  must  be  con- 
tented with  a  very  imperfect  detail.  There  are  emo- 
tions, which  no  genius  can  describe,  and  sympathies 
which  no  artist  can  depict.  Whether  the  Superieure 
was  truly  acquainted  with  any  part  of  my  history,  I 
could  never  ascertain.  She  was  ever  kind,  but  ex- 
tremely  guarded  ;  and  always  conducted  herself  as  if 
she  was  implicitly  bound  to  comply  with  the  directions 
of  the  Bishop  and  his  Vicar-General,  to  whom  she 
professed  canonical  obedience.  Three  days  elapsed 
ere  I  was  informed  of  the  actual  object  of  my  transfer 
to  Three  Rivers.  The  Superieure  requested  my  com- 
pany, to  walk  with  her  in  the  garden  of  the  convent  to 
enjoy  the  serenity  of  a  beautiful  afternoon  ;  and  when 
we  were  entirely  secluded  in  an  alcove  from  all  observa- 
tion ;  she  remarked — "  I  suppose,  Louise,  that  you  have 
been  informed  for  what  purpose  you  have  been  transfer- 
ted  to  my  care  ?"  My  reply  was — "  I  understand  that  1 
have  been  requested  to  aid  in  alleviating  the  sorrows  of 
a  female  valetudinarian."  She  then  inquired — "  Are 
you  still  willing  to  accept  the  office  which  your  friend 
assigned  you  V  To  this  question,  I  answered — "  I 
am  desirous  to  know  the  precise  duties  which  will  de= 
volve  upon  me.  Any  thing  which  I  can  do  I  shall 
willingly  undertake,  but  I  cannot  assume  laborious 
services  for  which  I  am  incompetent."  The  Superieure 
subjoined — "  Your  only  employ  will  be  to  attend  upon 
the  lady  ;  and  if  you  can  effect  that  desirable  object, 
to  diminish  her  mysterious  and  deep-rooted  sadness. 

In  what  method  that  can  be  most  effectually  secured, 

12 


138 

is  left  to  your  judgment  and  experience.  You  will  be 
at  liberty  to  sleep  in  her  apartment  or  not,  at  your 
option.  A  servant  is  expressly  designated  to  wait  upon 
you.  The  only  injunction  which  I  am  commanded  to 
enforce  upon  you  is  this — that  you  are  neither  to  con- 
verse with  the  lady  when  the  servant  is  present,  nor  to 
communicate  either  to  her  or  even  to  me  what  your 
companion  may  confide  to  you."  I  felt  embarrassed 
with  this  condition,  and  replied — "  I  am  inexperienced, 
and  may  want  advice  and  assistance,  to  whom  shall  I 
appeal  f*  The  Superieure  remarked — "  It  is  not  possi- 
ble that  any  circumstances  can  arise,  which  in  this 
respect  will  require  the  interposition  of  a  third  person. 
In  all  cases  which  refer  to  her  health,  the  attending 
physician  will  be  consulted  ;  and  concerning  your  per- 
sonal  comforts,  you  will  always  recur  to  me,  and  I 
shall  take  care  that  not  only  every  want  shall  be  sup- 
plied, but  all  your  wishes  shall  be  fully  indulged."  To 
this  arrangement  I  consented  ;  upon  which  she  instant- 
ly arose,  placed  a  letter  in  my  hand,  and  as  she  was 
retiring,  she  added — "  I  shall  join  you  in  an  hour— but 
remember  inviolable  secrecy  must  be  maintained  f 
and  she  returned  to  the  convent. 

My  attention  was  instantly  directed  to  the  seal  and 
superscription,  and  I  fancied  that  they  were  the  same 
with  which  you  and  I  had  formerly  been  so  molested. 
The  conviction  of  their  identity,  as  more  accurate 
scrutiny  confirmed  my  opinion,  almost  overpowered  me 
with  the  portentous  dread  of  some  new  indefinable 
calamity.     Tears  partially  relieved  me,  and  with  as 


139 

touch  composure  as  I  could  assume,  I  commended  my- 
self  to  God,  aad  earnestly  implored  his  guidance  and 
support  in  this  novel  perplexity.     My   mind  was  en- 
couraged,  and  the  recollection  of  his   past  goodness 
fortified  me.     1  realized  that  worse  evils  than  those 
which  1  already  escaped,  could  not  befal  me  ;  and  the 
additional  confidence  which  I  reposed  in  your  lawyer, 
as  the  instrument  in  the  hands  of  Divine  Providence 
to  guard  and   superintend   my  welfare,   strengthened 
me.    You  will  easily  sympathize  with  me,  my  brother, 
when  you  peruse  the  accompanying  letter. 

To  Louise  M. 

"  Howt  shall  I  address  you,  Louise  ?  On  a  former 
occasion  when  you  received  a  letter  from  me,  L  was 
your  tormenting  persecutor;  and  your  base  ui  natural 
betrayer ;  now,  I  am  your  penitent,  broken-hearted 
mother !" 

"  Mother !"  I  involuntarily  exclaimed  with  inex- 
pressible tremor,  for  then  in  a  moment,  all  the  horrible 
past,  with  its  inconceivably  aggravated  criminality, 
rushed  into  my  mind — "  Mother  !"  how  I  felt,  wThat  I 
thought,  or  even  where  I  was,  I  could  scarcely  compre- 
hend. All  were  so  commingled  in  a  species  of  tempora- 
ry hallucination,  that  I  know  not  what  I  said  in  my 
broken  soliloquy  of  appalling  surprise.  It  is  well  that 
no  person  could  have  heard  me.  The  first  consistent 
remembrance  that  I  experienced,  was  the  precious 
application  to  my  soul  of  the  Lord's  words  recorded  by 
♦he  prophet  Isaiah.   "  Can  a  woman  forget  her  sucking 


140 

child,  that  she  should  not  have  compassion  on  her  son  ? 
Yea,  they  may  forget,  yet  will  I  not  forget  thee."  It 
was  a  salutary  cordial  to  my  agitated  heart  ;  and  at 
once  infused  the  idea,  that  I  was  thus  remarkably  ap- 
pointed to  attend  and  support  the  enfeebled  and  dispirit- 
ed  woman  by  whom  we  had  been  ushered  into  the 
world.  Dreadful,  however,  as  were  all  the  forn  ei 
scenes,  and  affecting  as  our  first  interview  must 
necessarily  be,  yet  I  felt  as  if  divested  of  a  burden, 
and  instantly  adopted  the  resolution  to  submit  to  any 
thing  for  her  sake,  with  the  hope,  by  Divine  grace, 
of  being  instrumental  to  her  soul's  welfare.  Again  I 
besought  the  Savior's  blessing  in  the  discharge  of  these 
unexpected  duties  ;  and  then  with  tolerable  calmness, 
pausing  as  my  varied  excitements  impelled,  I  studied 
the  remainder  of  your  mother's  letter. 

She  thus  proceeded — "It  is  not  necessary  in  this 
manner  to  inform  you  of  any  particulars  with  which 
you  will  afterwards  become  acquainted.  Since  our  last 
separation,  my  life  has  been  a  term  of  wretchedness 
and  alarm,  justly  merited  but  almost  too  great  to  be 
borne.  To  alleviate  agonies  which  have  corroded  my 
constitution,  and  which  all  other  attempts  to  diminish 
have  only  embittered,  I  some  time  since  proposed,  that 
as  lengthened  life  for  me  could  not  be  anticipated,  I 
might  have  you  for  my  companion.  With  great  diffi- 
culty the  objections  to  this  measure  were  vanquished, 
Not  that  the  persons  who  have  us  in  their  bondage 
feel  any  concern  for  our  comfort,  but  they  are  terrified 
at  all  idea  of  any  possible  mode  existing  by  which 


141 

your  past  history  shall  be  published.  Diganu's  rising 
character,  and  from  his  ascertained  wealth,  his  superior 
influence  in  society,  combined  with  the  resolute  opposi- 
tion and  unyielding  measures  of  Rohoirsic,  have  in- 
timidated our  enemies ;  for  now,  they  are  not  less  mine 
than  your's ! 

My  wishes  werec  onveyed  to  the  counsellor,  with  the 
reasons  by  which  the  plea  was  sanctioned.  The  chief 
argument  urged  against  the  design,  except  the  fear  of 
publicity,  was  this — that  your  avowed  heretical  opinions, 
as  they  are  denominated,  precluded  all  intercourse  with 
you.  Upon  this  point,  I  fully  satisfied  the  Jesuits,  that 
although  I  was  profoundly  ignorant  of  all  that  you 
believed  and  practised  under  the  name  of  religion, 
yet  I  was  not  less  filled  with  an  unconquerable  detesta- 
tion of  themselves  and  their  priestcraft,  their  doctrines, 
superstitions,  frauds,  and  pursuits ;  that  this  aversion 
had  not  been  imbibed,  as  they  well  knew,  from  any 
person  or  book  ;  but  that  it  was  the  result  of  my  own 
reflections  in  the  dreariness  of  my  cell,  amid  the  inter- 
vals of  sickness  and  pain.  As  I  was  no  longer  deemed 
worthy  of  flattery  and  solicitation,  all  their  terrifying 
artifices  were  tried  in  vain.  I  repelled  them  with  their 
own  weapons.  When  they  attempted  to  affright  me 
with  their  excommunication,  I  ridiculed  a  menace,  all 
the  horror  of  which  they  themselves  had  extracted  :  as 
they  had  often  assured  me,  that  it  was  only  an  instru- 
ment to  n  lanage  the  weak  and  silly  populace,  that 
they  may  be  cajoled  into  a  perfect  acquiescence  with 
their  authority  and  injunctions.  Sometimes  they  de- 
12* 


142 

nounced  all  the  fires  and  tortures  of  purgatory  and  hell 
as  my  portion.  My  sole  reply  ^was  a  scornful  retort, 
ilhat  they  themselves  had  often  said,  that  a  future  state 
was  all  a  fiction,  only  propagated  to  fill  a  Priest's  coffers 
with  money  and  to  terrify  the  ignorant  multitude* 
Then  they  would  declare,  that  no  Masses  should  be 
said  for  my  soul. '  My  answer  was  this — "  You  your- 
selves admit  that  the  Mass  is  a  contrivance  only  of  the 
Pretres  to  procure  offerings  from  your  stupid  disciples  ; 
because  you  confess  to  each  other  your  belief  that  it  is 
impossible  for  any  reasonable  creature  to  credit  the  doc- 
trine of  transubstantiation  ;  and  that  it  was  invented 
only  to  support  the  Priest's  power  over  the  foolish  peo- 
ple, who  are  taught  that  you  can  make  and  eat  youi 
God  whenever  you  please  ;  and  then  you  absolve  each 
other  for  your  shameless  hypocrisy."  Upon  various 
occasions,  they  threatened  me  with  everlasting  burn- 
ings both  body  and  soul  at  the  future  retribution. 
This  I  repelled,  by  assuring  them  that  they  had  often 
laught  us,  and  we  all  supposed  their  account  to  be  true, 
that  the  doctrine  of  the  soul's  immortality,  the  resur- 
rection of  the  dead,  and  a  judgment  to  come,  and  in 
short,  that  all  their  pretended  religion  of  Jesus  Christ 
was  only  a  profitable  fable  for  the  Pope  and  the  Priests 
But  although  I  resolutely  opposed  all  their  attempts 
longer  to  govern  me,  yet  I  was  actuated  only  by  the 
spontaneous  dictates  of  my  own  mind  ;  for  I  cannot 
perceive,  that  a  religion  which  transforms  all  society  in- 
to a  pleasure-house  for  the  indulgence  of  a  few  Pretres, 
san  be  of  any  value ;  and  my  own  experience  led  me 
to  conclude,  as  they  proclaim,  that  all  their  pretend 


ed  religion  is  a  fabulous  imposture.  My  natural  con* 
science,  however,  was  still  partially  in  exercise.  I  was 
tossed  to  and  fro,  as  in  a  tempest.  I  could  not  undoubt- 
ingly  admit,  that  there  is  no  God,  no  eternity,  and  no 
difference  between  virtue  and  vice.  I  cannot  now  be- 
lieve, that  the  wicked  are  equally  good  and  estimable 
as  the  virtuous  ;  and  that  when  we  die,  all  mankind 
are  extinguished.  In  proportion  as  I  was  forced  to 
deny  the  delusive  doctrines  of  the  Pretres  and  the  Chap- 
lain, my  agony  became  intense.  I  reflected  upon  what 
I  had  been  and  what  I  had  done.  My  mind  was 
totally  empty  of  all  satisfaction,  and  I  rejected  all  my 
former  deceptions,  with  no  truth  to  enlighten  or  direct 
me.  All  my  ideas  were  fraught  with  fearful  remorse 
and  withering  anguish  ;  until  a  ray  of  light  and  hope 
glimmered  over  me,  when  the  sudden  impression  first 
entered  my  mind  to  claim  your  attendance.  I  insisted, 
and  they  refused.  I  persevered,  and  they  were  obsti- 
nate. The  Counsellor  arrested  their  attention  more 
pointedly  to  the  object  by  co-operating  with  me.  Finally 
it  was  arranged,  that  I  should  be  removed  to  Three 
Rivers ;  and  that  you  should  meet  me  here.  My 
chief  motive,  I  confess,  was  selfish.  I  was  anxious  for 
an  associate,  in  whom  I  could  confide  ;  and  from  whom, 
if  possible,  I  might  learn  the  way  to  true  repentance, 
that  I  may  die  in  feeble  hope,  if  not  in  perfect  peace. 
The  Superieure  knows  nothing  of  our  affairs,  except 
that  we  are  mother  and  daughter,  and  reputed  heretics 
who  must  be  indulged  in  our  accursed  errors,  as  the 
Priests  name  them.  We  are  also  characterized  as  two 
miserable  half  crazy  idiots,  who  for  a  long  time  have 


144 

*been  separated;  but  whose  friends  are  so  influential, 
that  we  must  enjoy  tender  care  and  affectionate  treat- 
ment. It  was  necessary  that  you  should  thus  be  ap- 
prised  of  our  new  relationship  before  you  see  me;  and 
also  of  my  desires,  that  you  may  not  recoil  with  aver- 
sion, had  you  recognised  your  former  most  unnatural, 
treacherous  and  vile  tempter.  I  can  make  you  no 
atonement  for  the  past,  nor  promises  for  the  future  ; 
except  that  you  will  not  find  your  detestable  fellow 
fcfaVeller  to  Jacques  ('artier,  in 

Your  repentaut  and  sorrowful  mother, 

Therese. 

The  Superieure  returned  to  me  before  I  had  fully 
recovered  my  equanimity — "  Have  you  any  message 
or  communication — she  asked — for  Therese?"  In 
reply  I  stated — "Be  so  good  as  to  inform  her,  that  I 
shall  prepare  an  answer  to  her  letter,  which  shall  be 
presented  to  you  in  the  morning."  After  much  deli- 
beration, I  sealed  the  sheet  which  you  will  peruse,  my 
brother,  with  melancholy  emotions.  You  will  perceive 
that  it  is  stained  with  my  tears  and  marked  with  my 
blots.  My  agitated  spirits  did  not  permit  me  to  dwell 
upon  the  shocking  retrospect.  Besides,  our  approach- 
ing interview  and  subsequent  residence  in  the  same 
apartments  rendered  all  discussion  superfluous,  except 
those  declarations  which  were  adapted  to  prepare  the 
mind  of  Therese  for  an  amicable  reception,  and  for 
ftitqre  unreservedly  candid  intercourse, 


145 

To  Therese, 

"  Your  unexpected  letter  fills  me  with  the  utmost 
surprise,  and  excites  the  most  contradictory  emotions. 
To  find  a  mother  after  having  never  known  what  that 
endearing  word  means  !  but  to  discover   my  mother 
in  you  !  Had  not  so  many  other  painful  circumstances 
authorized  your  claim,  the  fact  would  be  incredible.     I 
cannot  reproach  you.  I  pity  your  anguish, and  most  wil- 
lingly consent  to  try  my   feeble  energies  to  relieve  it. 
But  I  must  insist,  that  unless  you  choose  to  detail  your 
past  history,  so  far,  that  I  may  be  able  to  understand 
in  what  way  most  effectually  to  assuage  your  sorrows, 
1  may  not  hear  any  illustrations  of  former  events,  ex- 
cept for  the  sake  of  Diganu.     A  penitent,  heart-broken 
mother  !     Ah,  what  do  these  epithets  convey  I     Yet  I 
rejoice,  if  you  are  sorrowful,  that  you  are  repentant; 
and  I  bless  God,  that  "  the  sacrifice  of  a  broken  spirit 
and  a  contrite  heart,  he  will  not  despise."     The  chief 
point  in  your  letter  is  the  information,  that  you  have 
rejected  the  Priest's  odious  doctrines  and  criminal  temp- 
tations ;  then  I  may  hope,  with  the  Divine  blessing,  to 
be  of  some  benefit  to  you  :  and  gladly  shall  I  consecrate 
my  hours  to  promote  your  spiritual  instruction  ana  per- 
sonal comfort.     To  be  a  blessing  to  you  in  your  decline 
will  be  ample  compensation  for  my  past  trials,  afflic- 
tions, and  disappointments.    You  representy  ourseif  as  a 
very  different  person  in  appearance  from  what  you  were 
when  we  last  parted  :  and  what  is  your  Louise  ?   I  am 
told  by  Rohoirsic,  that  1  am  so  altered,  Diganu  himself 
would  scarcely  recognise  me.     I  shall  submit  myself 
entirely  to  your  control,  so  far  as  is  proper,  and  will 


146 

endeavor,  by  unceasing  assiduity,  to  prove  my  entire 
willingness  to  serve  you,  while  I  am  learning  the  les- 
sons which  appertain  to  a  devoted,  faithful,  and  affec- 
tionate daughter. 

Louise, 

The  reply  to  my  note  was  a  verbal  message  by  the 
Superieure — "  Therese  proposes  to  receive  you  this 
afternoon." 

I  knew  not  how  to  occupy  the  anxious  and  perplex- 
ing interval.    If  I  attempted  to  read  my  otherwise  most 
attractive  author,   he   interested    me  not.     My  Bible, 
"  more  to  be  desired  than  much  fine  gold,"  could  not 
fix  my  vagrant  mind.     Lven   prayer  itself  did  not  al- 
lay my    feverish  emotions.     The  hours  elapsed  in    a 
round  of  capricious  fancit*  which  were  destitute  of  eve- 
ry semblance  of  reality.     When  I  was  momentarily  se- 
rious, or   when  actually  offering  the  fervid  petition   to 
"  the  throne  of  grace,"  I  was  becalmed  :  but  my  roving 
imagination    instantly    passed    again    those    rational 
boundaries,  and  left  me  bewildered  in  retrospective  com- 
binations,  which  you  alone,  Diganu,  can  accurately 
conceive.     As  the  hour  of  our  interview  approached,  I 
became  more  agitated  and  undeterminate  how  to  speak 
or  act.     I  could  only  trust  in  God  for  his  indispensable 
aid  and  direction.      At  last,  in  excessive  agitation,  I 
was  conducted  to  a  door  of  a  room  by  the  Superieure — 
"  this — said  she — is  Therese's  apartment."     With  a 
languid  palpitation  of  heart,  I  advanced ;  the  door  was 
closed,  and  for  the  first  time,  I  was  in  the  presence  of 
my  avowed  mother. 


NUNNERY   AT  THREE   RIVERS 


How  blest  the  Pilgrim  who  in  trouble 
Can  lean  upon  a  bosom  friend — 
Strength,  courage,  hope,  with  him  redouble^ 
When  foes  assail,  or  griefs  impend. 

The  Narrative  of  Louise  next  detailed  the  account 
of  her  residence  at  Three  Rivers. 

"  Our  ignorance  of  each  other  was  mutual.  So  great 
^was  the  dissimilitude  between  the  woman  who  grasped 
me  at  Lorette  and  Therese  in  the  Convent  at  Three 
Rivers,  that  I  dared  not  speak.  I  could  not  admit  the 
identity.  We  continued  to  gaze  at  each  other  in  joint 
surprise.  After  a  long  and  agitating  pause,  a  voice 
scarcely  human  uttered — "  Come  near  me  ;  let  me  see 
if  you  are  Louise  indeed  ;  let  me  look  at  my  cross  on 
your  forehead."  The  sound,  although  sepulchral,  was 
the  same.  No  lapse  of  years*  could  obliterate  the  for- 
mer words  which  she  addressed  to  the  Cure — [  come 
here  ;  look  at  this  cross  on  her  forehead' !  For  a  mo- 
ment, I  almost  fancied  myself  again  in  the  Church  at 
Lorette,  writhing  in  all  the  agonies  of  that  tremendous 
scene.  "  Fear  not — she  presently  added — if  you  are 
my  Louise,  I  shall  instantly  know  you,  although  we 


148 

cannot  recognise  each  other's  person ;  and  I  will  sood 
prove  to  you  that  I  was  your  guilty  enemy  at  Lorette." 
Trembling,  I  obeyed  the  invitation,  and  knelt  before  her? 
who  was  seated  in  an  easy  chair.     She  threw  back  my 
hair,  it  was  the  same   mysterious  touch,  kissed  the 
cross,  told  me  to  rise,  directed  me  to  a  drawer,  and 
before  my  eyes  was  the  very  same  dress  which  I  wore 
at  Lorette,    and  of  which  she  had  divested  me  im- 
mediately after  our  arrival  at  the  General  Hospitah 
All  incredulity  at  once  was  extinguished.     For  some 
time,  we  both  maintained  a  natural  reserve,  but  it  gra- 
dually disappeared.    She  realized  in  me  a  friend  whom 
she  had  never  before  known,  and  I  found  in  Therese. 
a  tenderness  which  I  suppose  mothers  only  can  feel 
and  display.     The  first  preliminary   to  be  adjusted 
was  the  manner  of  addressing  her.     I  could  not  adapt 
myself  to  use  the  term  mother;  and  she  insisted,  that  I 
should  call  her  Therese,  being  the  only  appellative  to 
which  she  had  been  accustomed.     "Besides — she  re- 
marked, weeping  with  great  perturbation — I  am  not 
worthy  of  the  respectful  and  endeared  title  of  mother. 
It  pre-supposes  a  relation  which  1  never  sustained  to 
you,  affections  I  have  never  yet  experienced,  and  duties 
that  I  have  not  performed." 

Amid  all  her  dispiritude,  Therese  retained  the  Con- 
Tent's  acquired  sagacity,  although  she  had  been  enabled 
to  discard  its  guile  ;  and  consequently  perceiving  my 
genuine  character,  she  exactly  adpated  her  measures 
according  to  her  views.  She  speedily  ascertained  that 
to  unfold  her  own  personal  history  in  continuons  dc- 


149 

tail,  would  be  objectionable  to  my  principles  and  feel- 
ings, and  therefore  she  determined  to  introduce  the 
prominent  facts  of  her  life,  as  incidental  illustrations  of 
conversation,  as  they  might  successively  arise.  Our 
habits  of  living  partook  of  all  the  uniform  routine  of  the 
Nunnery,  as  our  only  relaxation  was  a  walk  in  th$ 
garden,  during  which  we  were  invariably  attended  by 
our  servant. 

Therese  almost  constantly  developed  the  same  heart- 
rending uneasiness,  an  uninterrupted  bitter  compunc- 
tion for  her  past  actions,  an  insatiable  avidity  to  obtain 
saving  knowledge,  and  increasing  attachment  to  yoUi 
Louise.  Her  bodily  strength  decreased  almost  imper- 
ceptibly, and  was  only  manifested  in  the  feebleness 
of  her  steps,  and  the  gradual  restriction  of  the  length 
of  our  promenade.  Until  we  became  more  unreserved? 
to  read  to  her  the  Scriptures  and  my  other  books  was 
my  chief  employ.  Sometimes  she  would  propound  a 
question  for  information,  when  she  apprehended  a  lia- 
bility to  mistake  ;  but  generally  she  was  absorbed  in 
her  own  meditations.  The  first  exhibition  of  a  wish 
for  more  familiar  intercourse  was  a  request,  that  1 
would  communicat-3  to  her  the  particulars  of  my  escape 
from  the  Pretre's  house ;  and  my  subsequent  history 
while  a  resident  with  you.  "  1  have  no  wish,  Louise 
—she  added — to  distress  you  by  the  recital.  My  only 
reasons  for  desiring  you  minutely  to  retrace  your  suf 
ferings  are  these — that  thereby  I  may  more  accurately 
understand  your  mental  exercises,  and  also  promote? 

Diganu's  welfare.     I  can  gladden  vou  by  the  assu 

13 


150 

ranee  of  the  latter  ;  and  trust,  that  I  shall  learn  some^ 
thing  of  the  operations  of  conscience,  from  your  detail 
of  the  manner  in  which  truth  irradiated  your  mind." 
I  also  observed,  as  the  Scriptures  became  more  impress- 
ed upon  her  thoughts,  that  her  expressions  of  penitence 
were  more  consistent,  and  that  she  grew  in  correct 
knowledge  of  the  genuine  character  and  design  of 
Christianity.   Yet  a  soul-wringing  tone  of  despair,  and 
anear-tin^lingexpression  of  anguish  were  often  mingled 
with  all  her  penitential    acknowldgements.     While  I 
applied  the  tender   invitations  of  redeeming  mercy  to 
her  condition,  she  repelled  them.     She  thought  that 
there  was  nothing  in  the  sacred  records  which    resem- 
bled her  case  ;  and  the  volume  of  Divine  love  seemed, 
in  her  apprehension,  to  be  only  the  authentic  declara- 
tion of  her  doom  to  everlasting  wo.     In  its  doctrines, 
consolations, and  examples, as  revealed  by  the  oracles  of 
God,  religion  appeared  too  elevated.     It  did  not  in  her 
estimate   adapt   itself  to   the   peculiar  self-abhorence 
which  she  realized  ;  and  it   propounded  no  pattern  of 
a  person  whose   trangressions   had  been  clothed  with 
enormity  similar  to  that  which  characterized  her  wick- 
edness.    Her   sorrow  for  sin,  therefore,   produced  no 
correct  confidential  petition  for  mercy.     She  dreaded 
the  indignation  of  the  Judge,   and    longed   that  his 
wrathful  sentence  should  be   averted  ;  but  she  could 
not  admit  the  extension  even  of  the  God-like  Saviour's 
mercy  to  such  a  heinous  criminal.     Upon   considering 
this  state  of  her  mind,  I  thought  that   by  distinctly  un- 
folding my  own  spiritual  maladies  and  the  methods  of 
cure,  with  apposite  remarks,  I  might  assist  her  judg 


151 

ment,  and  obtain  additional  influence  over  her.  But 
it  was  very  difficult  to  decide  upon  the  most  efficient 
means  and  the  most  suitable  periods.  From  internal 
disquietude  and  nervous  irritability,  combined  with  het 
varying  corporeal  alternations  of  strength  and  feeble- 
ness, and  also  from  the  remains  of  that  artificial  cha- 
racter which  had  previously  belonged  to  her,  Therese 
was  occasionally  captious  ;  and  although  her  attach- 
ment for  me  appeared  stable  and  sincere,  yet  in  the 
exhibition  of  it,  she  was  sometimes  exceedingly  capri- 
cious. My  inexperience  was  often  nonplussed  in  over- 
coming  her  waywardness  ;  and  it  was  probably  almost 
impracticable  for  her  to  subdue  all  those  suspicions  of 
my  fidelity,  which  our  extraordinary  situation  could 
not  fail  to  excite.  To  remove  these  inauspicious  feel- 
ings constituted  another  argument  for  my  manifesting 
all  possible  sympathy  with  her,  by  compliance  with 
her  desires. 

She  was  also  very  solicitous  to  ascertain  how  I  began 
to  doubt  the  infallibility  of  the  Priests  and  their  doctrines. 
This  induced  me  to  narrate  my  interview  with  the 
dying  Marguerite.  "  Ah  ! — remarked  Therese.  wh^n 
I  had  finished — her  account  was  true.  Frequently 
did  she  admonish  me  against  my  foolish  opinions  ; 
but  she  did  it  so  cautiously,  that  I  could  never  find 
any  thing  to  report  to  the  Priests  to  her  prejudice.  She 
was  blessed  in  her  humble  station,  for  as  she  had  no 
money  to  bestow  for  masses,  absolutions,  and  all  their 
other  Jesuitical  impostures,  they  cared  not  for  her  at- 
tendance upon  them,  and  thus  she  was  despised  as 


J  62 

beneath  their  scrutiny."  I  replied — "  I  did  not  linden 
stand  from  Marguerite,  that  she  ever  had  cautioned 
and  warned  you  as  she  did  me."  Therese  answered 
— "  Not  at  all.  Had  she  told  me  thirty  years  before, 
the  same  things  which  she  addressed  to  you,  her  life 
would  have  been  the  immediate  forfeit."  I  instantly 
demanded — "  How  then,  Therese,  could  she  have  ad- 
monished you  against  your  false  sentiments ?"  Therese 
rejoined — "  She  discovered  my  danger,  without  doubt, 
from  the  prior  knowledge  which  she  had  acquired,  and 
from  the  silly  declarations  that  I  made.  I  used  to  tell 
her  that  we  must  not  offend  the  Holy  Pieties.  She 
would  look  grave,  and  ask  me,  'whether  is  it  better  to 
please  God  or  the  Priest  V  I  would  try  to  convince  her 
that  this  was  the  same  thing.  4  pity  you,  ma  chere, 
my  dear  ! — would  she  say — but  suppose  God  com- 
mands any  thing  and  the  Priest  forbids  it;  or  suppose 
the  Priest  enjoins  you  to  perform  any  action  which 
God  prohibits,  In  those  cases  you  cannot  please  both 
those  conflicting  authorities.'  But  1  would  say,  'your 
supposition  is  impossible,  because  the  Pi  iest  being  in- 
fallible, can  only  tell  us  what  God  orders,  and  we  can 
know  what  God  directs  only  by  the  Priest's  explana- 
tion and  instructions.'  At  these  absurd  speeches  she 
would  be  silent,  or  sometimes  speak  to  herself,  and 
often  I  thought,  maugre  all  her  endeavors  to  conceal  it, 
that  I  saw  on  her  countenance  a  smile  of  unbelieving 
contempt.  I  was  then  too  ignorant  and  enslaved  to 
comprehend  her  meaning ;  now  I  should  know  its  pur- 
port." I  answered — "  When  we  correctly  examine 
ourselves  and  our  individual  responsibility,  it  is  most 
mortifying  to  human  pride,  and  indeed  almost  incredi- 


153 

hie,  that  any  persons  can  risk  their  eternal  salvation 
upon  such  gross  delusions."  Therese  inquired — "Did 
you  never  believe,  Louise,  that  it  is  mortal  sin  to  offend 
the  Pretres  ?"  To  this  question  I  replied — "Not  exact- 
ly in  all  its  extent.  Before  I  had  been  fully  trained, 
Marguerite  had  given  me  some  gospel  eye-salve  which 
enabled  me  to  inspect  for  myself.  Hesitation  followed  ; 
and  the  person  who  once  begins  to  doubt  the  Priests? 
infallible  supremacy,  speedily  rejects  all  their  abomina- 
tions. But  was  there  no  other  point  on  which  she 
spol^  to  you  ?"'  Therese  said — "  Yes,  I  remember  once 
IB  particular ;  after  I  was  hoasting  of  having  been  ab- 
solved by  the  Chaplain  of  all  my  sins,  both  venial  and 
mortal,  that.  Marguerite  asked  me — 'what  is  the  differ- 
ence between  those  kinds  of  sins  V — I  could  not  define 
my  own  notions,  which  I  had  imbued  from  the  Priests  ; 
hut  my  reply  was  to  this  effect — mortal  sins  are  those 
which  are  done  against  the  laws,  power,  and  interest 
of  our  Holy  Church  ;  and  ail  other  offences  are  only 
venial  sins  winch  will  be  purified  by  the  fire  of  purga- 
tory." I  inquired — "  When  you  attempted  to  enforce 
upon  me  the  belief  of  this  blasphemous  and  polluting 
doctrine,  did  you  really  give  credit  to  it?"  With  a 
groan,  and  sobbing  which  bespoke  her  internal  agony, 
Therese  rejoined — "Certainly,  Louise.  I  was  then  so 
blinded  by  they  deceitfulness,  so  infatuated  by  their  ar- 
tifices, so  corrupted  by  habitual  ungodliness,  and  so 
hardened  by  their  infidelity,  ceremonies,  sins,  confes- 
sions and  priestly  absolu.ions  ;  that  I  could  have  perpe- 
trated any  crime  and  deemed  it  a  virtue,  if  the  Pre!  res 
had  commanded  me,"  I  almost  involuntarily  exclaim- 
13* 


154 

ed — "  Blessed  be  God,  who  redeemed  my  life  from  des- 
truction for  my  marvellous  deliverance  ! — but  when 
you  uttered  this  irrational  distinction  in  your  estin  ate 
of  wickedness,  did  Marguerite  make  no  remark  V' 
Therese  continued — "  She  cast  upon  me  a  scrutiniz- 
ing look,  doubtless  to  ascertaiu  whether  1  was  actually 
lost  to  all  setose  of  female  decorum,  and  reading  in  my 
features  that  some  remains  ol  innocence  existed,  she 
begged  me  not  to  think  so  lightly  of  sin  before  Godf 
as  to  suppose,  that  the  transgression  of  his  commands 
could  pass  unpunished.  1  observed  Mu  reply — '  the 
evil  is  done  away  by  our  own  penance,  the  Pope's  in- 
dulgences  and  the  Priest's  pardon.'  She  next  demand- 
ed— 'but  what  are  the  sins  which  can  thus  be  remit- 
ted  V  I  answered — 4  O  !  I  know  not  particularly  ;  all 
that  matter  you  know,  the  Priest  explains  when  I 
goto  confession !'  Marguerite  then  said — '  Very  well ; 
but  suppose  the  Pretre  should  tell  you  that  it  is  no  sin 
to  blaspheme  God,  to  utter  falsehoods,  or  to  live  un= 
chastely,  will  you  believe  him  V  I  replied — '  You 
know  that  if  the  Priest  orders  me  to  perform  any  action, 
then  it  loses  all  its  sinful  qualities.'  She  realized  in- 
stantly, that  I  was  well  fitted  for  their  most  unholy 
designs."  I  answered — u  After  all  that  I  have  myself 
felt  and  heard  upon  this  wretched  subject,  I  can 
scarcely  conceive,  Therese,  that  this  rule  of  action  is 
seriously  believed  by  any  persons  in  their  senses.  The 
inclination  to  vice  must  have  become  ungovernable, 
before  an  opinion  so  clearly  destructive  of  all  morality 
can  possibly  be  received  by  anv  rational  beings  ;  and 
then  it  must  be  avowed  solely  to  palliate  and  justify 


155 

their  sinful  course."  Therese  responded—-"  Yet  you 
must  have  undoubtedly  been  taught  that  fundamental 
doctrine  of  their  Church ;  and  had  not  Marguerite 
pointed  out  its  gross  offensiveness  by  the  personal  ap° 
plication  to  yourself,  and  had  you  been  earlier  exposed 
to  all  the  contagion  of  seductive  examples  in  the  Con- 
vent, and  to  all  the  insnaring  blandishments  of  the 
Chaplain  and  other  Priests,  without  intermission,  res- 
traint, and  counteraction  ;  do  you  think,  Louise,  that 
you  would  have  defied  successfully  every  temptation 
and  vanquished  all  their  terrors  ?"  My  answer  was — ■ 
"  I  shudder  at  your  disgusting  picture,  Therese,  and 
adore  the  Sovereign  and  merciful  Disposer  of  events, 
that  I  escaped  the  horrible  abyss.  But  did  Marguerite's 
indirect  instructions  shed  no  light  upon  your  mind  'F 
My  trembling  and  weeping  associate  replied — "  No,  for 

I  urged  upon  her,  our  duty  to  believe  every  thing  the 
Priests  tell  us,  and  to  do  all  that  they  say  without  the 
least  hesitation.  This  I  contended  was  the  only  source 
of  our  peace  and  safety."  Here  I  interposed — "If 
Marguerite  at  that  period  believed  as  she  did  on  her 
dying  bed,  I  should  think  that  so  monstrous  a  princi- 
ple.must  have  been  rejected  by  her." 

"  Listen,  Louise—she  added,  with  great  agitation- 
Marguerite  appeared  to  be  deeply  affected  by  my  folly, 

I I  am  a  Christian  woman — she  remarked — and  have 
never  had  the  soundness  of  my  faith  disputed  ;  but  I 
cannot  believe  everything  I  have  been  told  When  a 
little  child,  did  you  not  read  the  Book  of  Fables  ?  But 
you  never  supposed,  that  the  Wolf  and  the  Lamb  ac- 


156 

tually  argued  about  the  water  flowing  down  the  hill — 
she  glanced  at  me  with  her  well-remembered  expressive 
and  piercing  eye — although  I  have  often  seen  human 
wolves  in  sheep's  clothing  devour  the  innocent  lambs.* 
Ah  !  Louise  ;  now  I  bitterly  know  what  she  intended  ; 
and  often  since  have  I  been  harrowed  and  astonished 
that  I  did  not  comprehend  her  exactly  appropriate  allu- 
sion. Doubtless  perceiving  that  in  this  covert  manner 
I  was  impenetrable,  she  made  another  attempt  ;  and 
gradually  proceeded,  until  her  attacks  would  have  res- 
cued me,  had  I  not  been  so  irrecoverably  duped  and 
blindfolded.  "  If  a  Priest  should  state  to  you — she  in- 
quired— that  being  duly  commissioned  and  qualified  by 
the  Pope,  he  can  abrogate  tbe  ten  commandments,  will 
you  believe  him  ?"  To  this  startling  question  I  an- 
swered— 'I  should  suppose,  that  if  I  differ  from  him 
in  opinion,  my  sentiments  are  incorrect !'  She  instantly 
remarked — ■  Then  you  would  admit  his  interpretation 
of  the  Divine  law  to  be  true ;  though  he  flatly  contra- 
dicted its  only  meaning  and  its  plain  express  words  V 
This  exposition  rather  staggered  me.  so  that  with  some 
hesitation  I  replied — '  Undoubtedly,  Marguerite  ;  be- 
cause you  know  it  is  not  for  us  to  set  up  our  judgment 
against  our  holy  mother  the  Church,  of  which  the 
Pretres  are  tbe  ordained,  infallible  speaking  tribunal." 
Once  more  I  interrupted  Therese,and  said — "That  prin- 
ciple I  know  to  be  correct.  I  even  fully  assented  to  it  as 
a  general  theory,  after  I  had  discarded  it  in  its  personal 
application  to  myself.  This  fact,  therefore^  is  most  con- 
vincing proof,  not.  only  of  the  great  fallacy  of  that 
wicked  claim,  but  also  that  the  most  obligatory  rules  of 


15? 

moral  rectitude  are  effaced  by  the  Jesuit  Priests.  Our 
Lord  Jesus  gave  us  for  his  golden  rule,  'all  things 
whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do  unto  you,  do 
ye  even  so  uuto  them' :  but  1  could  permit  the  wolves 
to  continue  in  their  merciless  ruin  of  the  lambs,  pro- 
vided they  did  not  rend  me  ;  and  had  not  the  revolting 
picture  which  Marguerite  drew  aided  the  undying  im- 
pression, while  I  should  have  condemned  the  crime  if 
pepetrated  against  myself,  in  reference  to  others,  I 
should  have  justified  the  criminal."  My  companion 
added — '•  Had  I  then  possessed  the  smallest,  particle  of 
becoming  feminine  sensibility  or  of  sound  rational  in- 
tellect, I  must  have  glimpsed  enough  of  my  own 
foolishness,  at  least,  to  have  guarded  me  against  the 
direct  assaults  of  unveiled  iniquity ;  hut  1  was  so  chained 
in  their  Jesuitical  trammels,  that  nothing  aroused  me, 
until  I  was  immured  in  seclusion  and  racked  with  pain  ; 
Of  this  truth  you  will  be  fully  convinced,  Louise,  when 
I  have  communicated  to  you  the  remainder  of  Mar- 
guerite's circuitous  instructions."  She  paused,  and  1 
further  remarked — "These  opinions  were  not  all  ad= 
dressed  to  you  upon  one  occasion,  Therese,  I  think  you 
said  :  how  then  was  it  possible  for  you  to  evade  the 
influence  of  her  counsel,  when  Marguerite's  advice  and 
cautions  were  presented  to  you  at  different  times,  and 
at  distant  intervals  P  Therese  answered — u  Well  may 
you  ask  that  question ; — but  indeed  I  scarcely  ever 
thought  of  Marguerite  or  of  our  conversations,  except 
when  I  was  present  with  her.  I  was  too  frivolous  and 
gay ;  and  was  always  impressed  with  the  conviction, 
for  so  the  Jesuits  taught  us,  that  all  appearances  of 


158 

greater  gravity  and  less  attachment  for  self-indulgence 
and  youthful  pleasures  in  the  elder  Nuns,  were  not  the 
result  of  disinclination,  but  of  satiety,  or  hypocrisy, 
or  of  incapacity  from  feebleness  or  age  to  enjoy  their 
former  habitual  dissipation."  To  this  acknowledgment 
I  subjoined — "  Cela  est  vrai,  that  is  true.  I  was  often 
obliged  to  listen  to  that  soul-destroying  tale,  until  all 
that  I  knew  of  the  world  appeared  as  one  vast  mass  of 
thoughtlessness  and  vanity.  In  the  circle  where  the 
Pretres  move,  I  believe,  shocking  as  is  the  fact,  that 
your  statement  is  lamentably  verified." 

*'Let  me  proceed,  Louise — desired  my  companion— 
during  one  interview,  and  when  probably  from  what 
she  either  saw  or  heard,  Marguerite  suspected,  that  I 
was  on  the  verge  of  being  sacrificed,  she  again  intro- 
duced that  important  subject.  Apparently  as  a  matter 
only  of  curiosity,  she  inquired— 'are  you  of  your  former 
opinion  respecting  the  believing  and  doing  of  every 
thing  exactly  as  the  Priests  desire  or  command  V  I 
promptly  said — '  Yes  !'  The  old  woman  retorted — 'Eh 
bien,  well ;  suppose  a  heretic  should  declare  to  you  that 
the  Church  is  a  theatre,  and  the  Priest  and  his  assist- 
ants are  only  actors,  and  that  every  Sunday  you  and 
all  the  people  go  there  to  see  a  farce  performed,  will 
you  believe  him?'  I  rejoined — 'Marguerite,  how  can 
you  ask  such  a  silly  question?  do  you  think  that  1 
could  be  imposed  upon  b\  so  stupid  and  contradictory 
an  assertion  P  she  immediately  answered — '  Pont  du 
tout,  not  at  all  ;  but  suppose  the  Pretre  should  tell  you, 
that  the  Church  is  a  chestnut,  and  that  all  the  people 


159 

who  go  into  it  are  the  kernel ;  and  that  one  hundred 
millions  of  people  had  cracked  the  same  nut  and  eaten 
the  same  kernel,  mauy  times  annually  during  eighteen 
hundred  years  past ;  that  he  who  built  the  church 
was  eaten  up  in  the  nut  before  he  laid  the  foundation 
stone  ;  and  that  although,  according  to  the  Pretre's  ac- 
count, the  kernel  of  the  nut,  that  is,  the  church,  the  build 
er  and  the  people  have  been  eaten  up  eighteen  hundred 
thousand  millions  of  times,  yet  the  architect,  the  church, 
and  the  people  remain  the  same,  and  that  every  Roman 
Priest  has  the  power  to  change  the  church  and  people 
of  his  parish  into  a  nut  and  eat  them,  and  yet  multiply 
them  every  day,  so  that  all  the  people  can  swallow 
themselves  and  their  neighbors  at  any  time  in  every 
parish  throughout  the  world,  whenever  any  Priest, 
pleases ;  and  thus  that  every  single  man  or  woman,  or 
boy  or  girl  who  can  crack  the  nut,  can  not  only  devour 
himself,  but  also  all  the  Churches  and  congregations 
upon  the  earth,  at  the  same  time,  and  as  often  as  the 
person  chooses  to  pay  the  Pretre  for  producing  this 
wonderful  change,  and  making  such  a  nut,  will  you 
believe  him,  Tiierese  V  inquired  the  arch  Marguerite., 
As  I  had  not  the  smallest  idea  in  what  way  the  parable 
could  be  applied,  my  answer  was  very  brief — 'No  Pretre 
will  affirm  such  nonsense."  Little  did  I  then  imagine 
that  the  corner  stone  of  their  priestcraft  is  unspeakably 
more  false  and  incredible.  However,  I  am  now  con- 
vinced of  the  truth  of  Marguerite's  deduction,  that  if 
we  are  bound  to  believe  a  Jesuit  implicitly  in  one 
thing,  merely  on  account  of  his  priestly  office,  then  we 
are  obliged  to  submit  and  to  trust  to  him  in  all.     Thus 


160 

it  is  of  no  consequence,  whether  we  bow  down  to  the 
moral  obliquities  which  he  teaches  and  enforces,  or  to 
the  fraud  of  purgatory,  the  blasphemy  of  transubstantia- 
tion,  and  the  idolatry  of  the  Mass.  In  answer  to  my 
short  sentence,  Marguerite  said — '  but  if  you  must  be- 
lieve and  perform  all  the  Priest's  words,  where  will  you 
stop  ?  if  his  control  over  your  faith,  and  practice,  and 
conscience  be  unbounded,  how  can  you  justly  dispute 
his  infallible  authority,  whether  he  teaches  truth  or  er- 
ror, sense  or  nonsense,  virtue  or  vice, piety  or  irreligion?" 

a  One  might  suppose — I  remarked — that  no  person 
of  common  rationality  would  subscribe  to  these  insult 
ing  opinions,  did  not  our  own  observation,  and  alas ! 
our  own  experience  testify,  that  under  the  influence  of 
vicious  propensities,  the  heart  and  mind  of  man  may  be 
induced  to  receive  any  doctrine,  however  base  and  pre 
posterous,  if  it  sanctions  the  desired  indulgence  of  the  in 
ordinate  passions."     Therese  added — "  1  am  convinced 
that  this  is  the  only  true  solution  of  the  difficulty.    Igno  - 
ranee  of  all  sublime  truth  naturally  engenders  the  predo 
rninanceof  the  most  grovelling  errors,  which  become  pal 
atable  by  their  congeniality  with  the  objects  of  sense;  and 
when  aided  by  the  endless  variety  of  stratagems,  with 
which,  as  you  were  reading  to  me  the  other  day  from 
Christ's  words,  a  Jesuit,  if  it  were  possible,  would  de- 
ceive the  very  elect ;  these  sensual  inclinations  dispose 
the  mind  to  remove  all  the  grand  moral  distinctions, 
and  especially  when  gilded  over  by  the    plausible  dis- 
tinction, which  exists,  as  the  Roman  Priests  pretend, 
between  mortal  and  venial  sins.     Thus  it  was  with 


161 

me.  Marguerite  perceived  that  I  was  dumb,  when  she 
asked  me — 'how  can  you  dispute  the  Priest's  infallible 
authority  V  She  thus  proposed  to  awaken  my  seared 
conscience  by  that  exciting  question.  Instead  of  which 
effect,  it  operated  upon  me  as  an  opiate  ;  for  as  I  could 
not  instantly  say,  in  what  points  I  would  venture  to 
resist  the  claims  of  the  Jesuit  Priests,  I  concluded 
that  no  exception  could  justly  be  made.  Marguerite 
observed  my  unwary  mental  acquiescence  with  the 
principle  which  she  opposed,  and  resolved  to  impel  the 
arrow  of  conviction  as  far  as  she  dared  without  risking 
her  own  safety.  'Will  3^011  break  any  one  of  the  com- 
mandments in  the  decalogue — she  again  inquired— 
because  a  Priest  tells  you  that  your  disobedience  is  & 
venial  sin  ?  or  will  you  bear  false  witness,  steal  other 
people's  property,  or  commit  murder,  if  you  can  do  itj 
secretly,  because  your  Pretre  entices  you  to  do  it 
and  promises  you  his  absolution  V  Proposed  in  this 
form,  the  opinion  which  I  had  avowed  did  not  appear 
defensible  ;  and  yet  I  perceived  no  alternative,  mortal 
sin  must  be  committed,  or  the  Priest  must  be  confided 
in  and  obeyed.  However  I  answered  her — 'obedience 
to  our  confessor  is  the  first  law  of  the  Church  ;  and  if 
I  err  by  obeying  the  Priest,  he  will  have  to  bear  the 
punishment !'  Marguerite  replied— 'Ah !  ma  chere,  my 
dear;  if  one  child  at  school  induces  another  to  act 
wrong,  the  teacher  corrects  both  ;  and  although  the 
tempter  is  generally  more  corrupt  and  criminal  than 
the  tempted,  yet  the  latter  is  amenable  for  his  own 
transgression,  and  bears  his  own  stripes.'  This  doc- 
trine was  too  evidently  true  to  be  evaded  by  any  so* 
phistry.  I  could  therefore  only  repel  its  force  by  assert 
14 


162 

Ing — 'Your  principle  does  not  apply ;  for  it  cannot  be 
supposed  that  the  holy  priests  will  be  permitted  either 
themselves  to  fall  into  error,  or  to  teach  it  to  others/ 
The  melancholy  view  which  Marguerite  took  of  my 
approaching  degradation  emboldened  her  finally  to  ask 
xne — 'should  a  Priest  be  inclined  to  violate  his  vows 
and  solicit  you  to  indulge  him,  by  persuading  you 
that  the  trangression  of  the  two  commandments  re- 
specting chastity  is  a  venial  sin,  which  he  can  pardon  ; 
what  will  you  do,  Therese  :  will  you  consent  to  his 
Wicked  lawless  desires?'  I  felt  embarrassed  ;  but  was 
Hot  convinced  and  remained  silent.  'Do  you  not  know 
added  Marguerite — that  these  things  are  continually 
clone?' — I  answered  her  not  a  word.  From  your  state- 
ment she  accurately  divined  the  cause  of  my  silence ; 
ibr  although  not  then  actually  a  guilty  participant  of 
their  criminal  intercourse  ;  yet  I  was  completely  entan 
gled  and  bewitched  with  their  licentious  revelry.  My 
principles  and  feelings  were  thoroughly  poisoned  :  and 
from  all  that  I  had  seen  or  heard  or  been  taught,  it  ap- 
peared undeniable,  that  the  natural  consequence  of  a 
girl's  possessing  any  alluring  qualities,  and  of  attaining 
a  certain  age,  was  that  she  must  submit  to  the  Priest's 
wanton  caresses,  and  become  the  solace  of  his  unna- 
tural and  ruinous  celibacy." 

"  I  have  additional  reasons  to  adore  the  Divine  ma-» 
jesty — I  remarked — for  his  abundant  goodness  in  pre 
serving  me  from  the  pit  in  which  so  many  others  have 
been  intrapped."     Therese  rejoined — "  It  was  always 
a  mystery  inexplicable  to  us,  by  what  means  you  had 


163 

become  so  thoroughly  armed  against  the  Pretre's  wiles  ; 
for  one  of  the  most  pernicious  evils  connected  with 
monastic  life  is  this — that  those  who  already  have  been 
insnared,  are  made  the  shameless  tools  to  grapple  fresh 
victims.  The  immediate  separation  of  the  mother 
from  her  infant,  except  in  very  peculiar  cases,  destroys 
all  tender  sensibilities,  and  the  callous  effrontery  of 
the  Nuns,  as  you  have  awfully  witnessed — here  she 
beat  her  bosom  and  wrung  her  hands,  as  if  in  a  mo- 
mentary frenzy — render  them  peculiarly  qualified  in- 
struments to  carry  on  the  crafty  designs  of  the  Priests, 
in  the  dreadful  work  of  female  seduction  and  ruin." 

••  These  conversations  directed  me  in  my  efforts  to 
enlighten  and  impress  my  companion's  conscience.  I 
clearly  perceived  that  she  was  still  very  defective  in  re~ 
ference  to  the  spirituality  of  God's  law  and  the  malig- 
nity of  sin.  These  I  determined  therefore  should  con- 
stitute my  primary  points.  But  Therese,  although  a 
dull,  was  not  an  unwilling  pupil.  All  her  moral  ap- 
prehensions had  so  long  been  confounded  and  stu  pitied, 
that  it  was  difficult  to  engage  her  mind  to  receive  any 
thing  unless  through  the  medium  of  sense.  From  her 
I  imbibed  a  practical  knowledge  of  the  vast  labor  which 
is  requisite  to  turn  an  old  sinner  from  the  error  of  her 
ways.  She  was  not  an  example  of  profound  ignorance: 
but  her  mind  had  always  been  habituated  to  erroneous 
conceptions  of  every  thing  connected  with  the  human 
character  in  our  relation  with  God.  Her  whole  life 
from  premature  womanhood  had  been  a  ceaseless  rou- 
tine of  a  loathed  >  because  tiresome  and  unmeaning 


164 

ceremonial  of  pretended  worship ;  flagrant  violations  oi 
the  divine  law,  and  the  use  of  the  most  pernicious 
methods  to  harden  conscience  and  deaden  all  moral  sen- 
sibility. My  own  experience,  although  not  impregnated 
with  so  many  morbid  mixtures,  led  me  to  introduce  to 
her  attention  those  parts  of  the  Scriptures,  which  avowed 
the  authority  and  sanctity  of  the  divine  government, 
and  especially  those  passages  which  unfolded  in  the  most 
pointed  and  impressive  manner,  the  omniscience  and 
omniprescence  of  God.  I  had  found  the  truth  of  the 
adage,  "  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wis- 
dom ;"  and  I  had  also  experienced  that  the  quickeninge 
pf  that  fear  are  peculiarly  vivified  by  the  remembrance 
of  him  to  whom  "all  things  are  naked  and  open."  To 
ihese  spiritual  subjects,  Therese  was  lamentably  insen- 
sible. She  had  never  known  any  object  of  worship, 
except  through  the  carnal  visible  images  and  idols  of 
her  mummery ;  and  although  from  having  long  de- 
rived no  satisfaction  by  worshipping  them  ;  and  from 
the  Holy  Spirit  operating  to  unfold  to  her  the  folly  of 
trusting  in  nothings,  which  can  neither  see,  hear,  feel 
nor  assist,  she  had  discarded  the  external  objects  of  her 
superstitious  rites ;  yet  her  mind  had  not  found  the 
Great  Supreme,  as  the  sole  basis  of  confidence  ; — as  the 
Apostle  Paul  expressed  her  state,  "  she  had  turned  from 
her  idols,  but  not  to  serve  the  true  and  living  God." 

While  residing  with  you,  my  brother,  I  ascertained, 
that  the  only  effectual  method  to  dissipate  the  mists  of 
error  in  which  I  had  been  educated,  was  the  endeavor 
*o  obtain  the  rays  of  the  sun  of  righteousness,  by  v. 


165 

stedfast  perusal  of  the  sacred  volume.  So  sudden 
and  bright  was  the  refulgence  of  the  gospel,  I  could 
scarcely  believe  that  the  book  which  I  had  procured 
was  genuine.  I  had  to  undergo  a  similar  but  more  te- 
dious period  of  partially  doubting  amazement  with  youi 
mother.  Therese  could  not  conceive,  if  the  Bible  is 
true,  how  the  Priests  dared  to  restrain  the  common 
people  from  perusing  its  holy  instructions.  This  scruple 
I  vanquished  by  proving  to  her,  that  there  is  not  one 
doctrine  peculiar  to  Popery  which  can  be  found,  or 
which  is  not  directly  prohibited  in  the  scriptures  ;  and 
that  it  is  evident,  therefore,  the  Priests  forbid  the  study 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  lest  their  idolatrous  and 
corrupt  practices  should  be  exposed,  and  themselves"! 
with  their  priestcraft,  be  rejected.  It  was  more  difficult 
to  convince  her,  that  the  Pretres  wilfully  distorted  the 
sacred  oracles,  thereby  to  enforce  their  treacherous  im- 
positions upon  the  souls  of  men.  She  detested  the 
Jesuits  whom  she  had  known  ;  but  it  was  not  so  much. 
for  their  dreadful  frauds  and  unholiness,  as  on  account 
of  the  personal  miseries  which  she  endured,  either  from 
her  past  connection  with  them  or  through  their  direct 
instrumentality.  In  respect  also  to  her  own  individual 
sins,  she  seemed  more  disposed  to  impute  them  to  the 
instigations  of  the  Roman  Priests,  than  to  her  own 
choice,  and  willing  participation.  Thus  her  mind  was 
shielded  in  a  double  delusion  almost  impenetrable ;  and 
she  realized  not  the  feeling  implied  by  the  Psalmist — 
lt%  acknowledge  my  transgression,  and  my  sin  is  ever 
before  me.  Against  thee  only  have  I  sinned,  and  done 
*hi?  evil  in  thy  sight." 


166 

Sometimes  I  became  almost  impatient,  when  I  dis 
cerned  how  edowiy  her  mind  received  the  plainest  die 
iates  of  revealed  truth.  Her  objections,  however,  gradu- 
ally became  weaker.  I  found  the  words  of  Christ 
very  beneficial  for  my  assistance,  "search  the  Scrip- 
tures ;"  and  I  argued,  that  the  Savior's  authority  was 
paramount  to  that  of  all  inferior  teachers ;  and  that 
although  I  had  encountered  great  obstacles  to  under- 
stand them,  yet  by  patient  assiduity  and  humble  sin- 
cere prayer,  I  had  found,  that  "  whatever  things  were 
written  aforetime  were  written  for  our  learning,  that 
through  comfort  of  the  Scriptures  we  might  have  hope.'5 
Often  did  I  read  to  her  the  penitential  Psalms,  and  the 
chapters  of  ancient  history  which  record  the  lamenting 
confessions  of  Patriarchs  and  Prophets ;  especially  those 
which  directed  our  meditations  to  the  degeneracy  of 
human  nature,  the  lost  and  ruined  condition  of  man 
by  sin,  and  the  corruption  of  our  own  hearts  whence 
all  sin  flows.  On  these  occasions,  she  would  sometimes 
stop  me,  and  think.  Although  little  conversation  then 
occurred  between  us ;  yet  I  frequently  reminded 
Therese,  that  the  word  of  God  to  be  beneficial  must 
be  personally  applied ;  and  if  its  doctrines  and  examples 
and  commandments  are  not  thus  enforced  directly  upon 
our  own  consciences,  all  its  important  instructions  will 
be  of  no  permanent  advantage. 

"There  was  also  a  wandering  inattention  in  Therese 
which  often  disconcerted  me  ;  but  I  had  counted  the 
cost  of  my  services  and  patience.  I  beheld  a  woman 
emaciated,  enfeebled  by  a  lingering  malady,  wretched. 


if>7 

agonized  with  most  tormenting  fear,  enshrouded  in  the 
deepest  mental  gloom,  and  agitated  by  a  tempest  of 
conflicting  passions.  Although  I  had  received  from  her 
many,  and  the  utmost  injuries  which  she  possibly  could 
inflict ;  and  although  she  had  dishonored  every  femi- 
nine characteristic,  and  severed  all  the  endearing  bonde 
of  common  humanity;  yet  she  was  forlorn,  despised  by 
the  instigators  of  her  crimes,  and  claimed  my  compas- 
sion. She  possessed  an  immortal  soul,  and  it  was  my 
duty  to  use  all  appointed  means,  under  the  Divine 
blessing,  for  her  salvation  :  and  she  was  my  mother  ! 
and  she  was  your  mother,  my  dear  Diganu ;  and  her 
wicked  ways  had  not  exonerated  me  from  my  duty  as 
her  daughter,  much  less  as  a  Christian.  These  consi- 
derations animated  me  to  persevere.  I  could  not  forget 
my  own  past  ignorance,  my  former  danger,  my  mar- 
vellous rescue,  and  my  present  privileges  and  consola- 
tions. Therefore  I  constantly  supplicated  for  wisdom 
to  act  aright,  and  for  full  success  to  my  feeble  exertions. 
Knowing  the  danger  of  bewildering  her  mind,  and 
aware  that  until  Therese  correctly  apprehended  some 
thing  of  the  Divine  character  and  attributes,  and  until 
she  also  felt  that  his  "  law  is  holy,  and  his  command 
ments  holy,  just,  and  good,"  I  should  be  only  "  as  one 
who  beateth  the  air  ;"as  much  as  possible  I  restricted 
myself  to  these  two  subjects.  Occasionally  I  adverted 
to  Marguerite's  evangelical  understanding  of  the  genu 
ine  effects  of  saving  knowledge  upon  the  soul.  I  se 
lected  some  examples  from  the  sacred  word,  and  also 
different  corroborating  testimonies  from  the  volumes 
which  I  possessed  to  the  same  effect :  and  at  lengthy  tc 


168 

iny  great  delight,  I  discovered  that  her  conscience 
began  to  yield  to  the  light  and  the  truth.  Sometimes 
Therese  would  inquire — "how  is  it  possible  that  such 
great  coincidences  in  experience  and  language  can  exist 
among  persons  of  different  ages  and  countries  V9  This 
fact  naturally  led  me  to  urge  the  universal  suitability 
of  the  Bible  to  the  wants  of  all  mankind ;  and  to  argue 
that  the  identical  effect  of  pure  Christianity  in~all  per- 
sons, however  otherwise  unknown,  was  an  undeniable 
proof  of  its  divine  origin  and  bestowment.  I  also  per- 
ceived that  she  was  often  affected  with  devotional 
expressions,  particularly  if  they  implied  intense  feeling, 
and  aversion  to  mental  disquietude ;  and  she  wouM 
frequently  use  David's  figure,  that  "the  bones  which 
thou  hast  broken  may  rejoice."  Yet  I  could  discover 
nothing  of  a  direct  tendency  to  that  avowal  of  contri- 
tion accompanied  by  the  exercise  of  faith  and  earnest 
ness  of  prayer,  which  I  so  anxiously  longed  to  witness. 
When  persons  have  wandered  so  far,  not  only  from 
the  pathway  of  righteousness,  but  also  from  all  natural 
decorum,  and  have  violated  every  powerful  and  salutary 
restraint  of  conscience  which  the  Judge  of  the  quick 
and  the  dead  has  appointed  for  the  order  and  comfort 
of  man  ;  if  in  mercy  they  are  awakened  on  the  verge, 
of  the  precipice,  whence  they  might  plunge  into  the 
abyss  of  eternal  wo,  it  seems  to  be  the  appointment  of 
infinite  wisdom  and  love,  that  they  shall  usually  feel 
their  steps  with  caution,  as  they  retrace  their  course  to 
•Uhe  strong  hold."  One  hope  often  composed  my  mind; 
Without  any  hesitation,  Therese  would  feelingly  con- 
fess-that she  was  among  the  chief  of  sinners.   I  .also 


109 

knew  that  much  of  her  criminality  had  flowed  from 
ignorance  and  unbelief  ;  and  although  lest  she  might 
be  tempted  to  deceive  herself  with  a  fallacious  hope,  I 
never  adverted  to  this  special  point  in  the  Apostle  Paul's 
confession,  yet  from  it  I  was  encouraged  to  pray,  that 
the  faithful  saying  might  be  fulfilled  in  her  believing 
and  appropriating  acceptation. 

During  many  weeks  it  would  be  easier  to  describe 
her  state  by  negatives,  rather  than  by  affirmatives. 
She  had  not,  as  I  conceived,  evangelically  repented ; 
but  her  conscience  was  entendered.  She  did  not  be- 
lieve in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ;  but  she  totally  rejected 
all  other  dependence  for  salvation.  She  was  not  a 
fruitful  servant  of  the  Redeemer  ;  but  sSie  no  longer 
trampled  upon  his  rightful  authority.  She  could  not 
forget  the  unsatisfying  pleasures  which  she  had  so 
long  and  ardently  pursued  ;  but  she  had  imbibed  an 
utter  repugnance  to  all  her  iniquitous  practices.  She 
had  not  received  the  pure  gospel,  partly  from  the  uneasi- 
ness which  she  felt  in  submitting  to  its  yoke  ;  but 
she  utterly  disowned  the  merciless  tyranny  of  the  Jesuit 
Priests.  She  was  exactly  like  a  traveller  without  a  guide 
in  a  desert;  where  to  stand  still  is  impossible,  but  to  move 
is  to  storm  every  conceivable  danger.  Gradually  how- 
ever, her  peevishness  was  less  distressing.  Her  temper 
was  amended,  and  her  remarks  upon  religious  topics 
became  more  frequent  and  more  scriptural.  Whether 
this  was  the  result  of  our  seclusion  from  the  world,  or 
our  attention  to  the  books  which  I  read  to  her,  or  to  any 


170 

effectual  application  of  divine  truth  to  her  own  pecu 
liar  state,  I  could  not  decide.  I  hoped  the  latter  ;  bul 
I  rejoiced  with  trembling.  One  thing,  however,  rather 
astonished  me.  She  appeared  to  manifest  less  anxiety 
to  know  my  own  personal  history  ;  and  the  subject 
was  scarcely  ever  adverted  to,  except  to  ascertain  how 
I  felt  at  the  different  periods  when  she  was  present  with 
me  ;  thereby  to  explore  another  trait  in  our  varied  re- 
collections, that  she  might  comprehend  all  the  operations 
of  Divine  truth  upon  our  minds.  Thpse  cursory  inves- 
tigations being  spontaneous  gratified  me,  becaus  thejr 
indicated  an  inquiring  mind  ;  and  certified,  that  the 
hours  of  silence  and  of  our  separation  were  not  totally 
unprofitable. 

On  the  hist  day  of  December,  after  I  had  read  aloud 
some  of  the  Psalms,  and  a  passage  from  one  of  my 
authors  adapted  to  the  end  of  the  year,  Therese  ad- 
dressed me — "  I  know  not,  Louise,  how  exactly  to  ac- 
count for  the  fact,  but  1  have  never  known  so  agreea- 
ble a  time  in  my  life,  as  the  weeks  which  have  elapsed 
since  you  came  to  Three  Rivers."  My  reply  was — "  I 
rejoice  if  I  have  been  able  beneficially  to  serve  you, 
and  to  show  you  what  I  might  have  been,  if  other  cir- 
cumstances had  controlled  our  mutual  destinies." 
Therese  answered — "  That  subject  may  be  discussed 
upon  some  other  occasion  ;  my  object  now  is  to  remind 
you,  that  to  morrow  we  may  expect  to  see  Rohoirsic, 
and  I  shall  be  pleased  to  tell  him  of  your  great  kind- 
ness to  me."  I  again  remarked — "  I  have  not  forgot* 
ten,  Therese,  that  lie  has  never  yet  disappointed  me  :. 


m 

and  he  knows,  that  no  day  in  the  year  has  been  so 
anxiously  desired  as  the  first.  It  has  been  always^ 
since  my  separation  from  Diganu,  a  day  of  comfort  in 
my  own  mind,  and  of  gratitude  to  God  ;  and  although 
my  friend  did  not  absolutely  engage  to  see  me  on  any 
particular  day,  but  during  the  holidays,  yet  I  hope 
that  the  morrow  in  a  peculiar  degree  will  be  a  day  of 
peace."  Therese  rejoined — "Vous  avez  raison,  you  are 
light,  I  do  not,  I  cannot  expect,  indeed  I  have  no  right 
to  look  for  a  day  of  comfort,  or  to  be  at  peace  ;  but 
I  feel  sincerely  thankful  to  God,  I  trust,  for  sending 
you  to  me  ;  and  if  I  am  not  stronger  in  health,  that  I 
am  improved  in  knowledge,  and  clearer  in  principles, 
than  at  the  end  of  the  last  year.  My  expectations, 
Louise,  are  very  contracted.  I  cannot  even  lift  up  my 
eyes  unto  heaven.  I  can  only  cry — 'God  be  merciful 
to  me  a  sinner' ;  and  yet  twelve  months  ago,  I  had  no 
knowledge  of  myself,  nor  can  I  truly  say  that  I  even 
desired  thus  to  be  made  rightly  sensible  of  my  guilt. 
and  danger,  and  to  obtain  delivering  grace.  ? 

I  know  not  exactly  how  I  felt  at  these  hopeful  avow 
als.  I  could  only  silently  pray  that  the  Lord  would 
begin  the  good  work,  if  it  was  not  savingly  commenced  ; 
and  if  the  incorruptible  seed  by  the  word  of  God  had 
been  implanted,  that  he  would  carry  it  on  until  the  day  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Therese  was  watching  me.  Whether 
my  lips  moved,  I  know  not ;  but  she  saw  my  repress- 
ed emotions  of  satisfaction  and  interest  in  her  humble 
and  artless  acknowledgments.  "  Louise — she  said, 
with  great  pathos — I  am  not  acquainted   with  these* 


172 

very  important  concerns — you  are.  Pray  for  me.  a?; 
you  do  alone  for  yourself ;  and  give  thanks  to  Godf 
that  we  may  end  this  year,  seeking  his  mercy,  and 
imploring  an  increase  of  good  for  the  New  Year." 
She  had  never  before  requested  me  to  pray,  nor  did  J. 
feel  qualified  to  be  a  devotional  leader  for  another  ;  but 
who  could  resist  such  an  appeal,  at  that  season,  and 
from  our  humbled,  contrite  mother?  From  that  period, 
your  Louise  ceased  not  to  offer  her  daily  prayers  and 
supplications,  making  our  joint  requests  with  thanks 
giving  known  unto  God. 

True  to  his  hour,  on  the  morning  of  the  New  Year, 
Rohoirsic  entered,  and  congratualated  us  on  our  ap- 
parent comfort  with  each  other.  Having  pleased 
Thereseand  delighted  me  by  assuring  us  of  your  pros, 
perity,  he  departed,  accompanied  with  our  blessing 
and  regard,  while  we  mutually  rejoiced,  that  his  inter- 
vention to  settle  us  in  the  same  habitation  had  been 
attended  with  such  propitious  effects.  One  of  the 
consequences  of  the  counsellor's  visit  was  unexpected. 
Speedily  after,  Therese  requested  me  to  recount  the 
manner  of  my  escape  from  the  Pretre's  residence  ;  and 
i  think,  during  our  whole  intercourse,  that  nothing 
seemed  to  gratify  her  so  much  respecting  our  temporal 
concerns  as  my  narrative.  "  It  was  not  to  that 
wretched  woman,  Guise's  fears  onty,  that  you  owed 
your  safety  in  part — Therese  remarked — but  also  to 
the  Jesuit's  anxieties.  He  knew  that  it  would  be  im- 
possible long  to  detain  you  without  a  public  exposure. 
His  visit  to  Quebec  was  therefore  to  arrange  a  proper 
place  for  your  reception  :  but  have   you   no  suspi- 


173 

ciou  whe  that  Priest  really  is  7"  My  reply  was— "No ; 
I  never  could  form  any  idea  of  the  place  or  his  name." 
I  know  not  which  of  us  developed  the  strongest  shiver- 
ing, when,  with  a  tremulous  voice,  scarcely  audible, 
and  concealing  her  face  with  her  shawl,  she  uttered 
the  short  but  frightful  sentence—"  That  Priest  is  the 
father  of  IHgqnu."  This  electric  evolution  of  a  laby- 
rinth of  terrific  mysteries  was  indubitably  hurtful  to  my 
bodily  energies.  From  that  shock  I  never  recovered. 
However,  it  destroyed  at  onceall  the  prior  aversion  which 
I  had  constantly  experienced  to  become  acquainted  with 
the  history  of  our  mother.  Had  her  strength  admitted 
her  to  have  written  her  dreadful  tale,  I  should  rather 
bave  perused  than  heard  it;  but  as  that  labor  was 
not  feasible  on  her  part,  I  resolved  if  possible  to  ascertain 
all  that  it.  -light  be  proper  for  me  to  know  of  her  past 
life  in  conversation  ;  as  I  judged,  however  repulsive  and 
awful  might  be  the  disclosures  which  she  could  make 
of  her  sinful  course,  that  all  her  other  sins  could  not 
possibly  transcend  in  enormity  the  single  atrocious 
wickedness  which  she  had  thus  avowed.  Therese 
saw  the  effect  which  her  most  unexpected  communica- 
tion had  produced.  With  her  comparatively  blunted 
sensibilities,  she  had  not  nicely  comprehended  how  F 
should  feel ;  but  as  she  afterwards  stated,  the  harrowing 
fact  was  disclosed  to  me,  expressly  that  I  might  be  more 
anxious  to  know  her  biography,  as  well  as  our  own  in 
connection  with  her's,  and  as  of  unspeakably  higher  im- 
portance, that  I  might  be  able  to  administer  spiritual 
knowledge  to  her,  exactly  adapted  to  her  necessities. 
Providentially,  my  brother,  you  were  sent  to  our  assist 

15 


m 

ance.  I  directed  Rohoirsic  to  transmit  me  some  books, 
the  value  of  which  1  knew  not  except  by  reference, 
But  I  gave  him  a  carte  blanche,  with  my  earnest  pray- 
er that  you  might  be  directed  b)  the  Holy  Spirit  to  send 
me  those  volumes,  which  with  the  Scriptures  should 
make  your  mother  wise  unto  salvation.  1  carefully 
studied  every  book  betore  1  read  it  to  Therese,  that 
I  might  not  unintentionally  mislead  her.  W  hen  you 
again  examine  those  precious  memorials,  you  will 
perceive  how  attentively  youi  Luther,  your  Calvin,  your 
Claude,  and  your  Saurin  have  been  scrutinized  ;  and 
you  will  rejoice  to  be  assured,  that  their  illumina- 
tion irradiated  and  consoled  tho  close  of  our  earthly 
pilgrimage. 

The  hideous  information,  which  had  been  so  concise- 
ly but  impressively  conveyed  tome,  produced  no  de- 
rangement of  our  intercouse  upon  other  subjects  ;  but 
for  some  days,  not  a  syllable  of  a  personal  reference 
was  exchanged.  We  talked  of  man  aud  his  corrup- 
tion ;  of  sin  and  its  deformity  ;  of  the  hardness  of  the 
human  heart ;  of 'he  infinite  compassions  and  wonder- 
ful forbearance  of  God  ;  of  the  preciousness  of  the 
Saviour  ;  of  the  necessity  of  regeneration  ;  of  the  con- 
trasts  between  an  obdurate  sinner  and  an  evangelical 
Christian  ;  of  the  value  of  the  soul ;  and  of  the  sub- 
limely unutterable  feelings  connected  with  a  just  view 
of  the  resurrection  morn  ; — and  it  is  a  cause  of  grati* 
tude,  that  we  were  enabled  occasionally  to  forget  our- 
selves in  these  soaring  etherial  contemplations.  Al- 
though solicitous  to  hear  more  of  Therese'e  wayward 


175 

aess  so  far  as  it  concerned  ourselves,  yet  I  almost  shud- 
dered at  the  anticipated  narrative.     She  perceived  ray 
sudden  excitement,  whenever  a  remark  approximated 
the  boundary  between  the  actual  past  of  guilt  and  the 
present  reality  of  compunction,  and   therefore  saga- 
ciously  adopted  the  only  mode  by  which   probably  the 
repulsive  subject   eligibly  could    have    been   resumed. 
Some  circumstance  originating  in  our  temporary  feel- 
ings had  led  our  conversation  to  the  subject  of  human 
mortality,  and  its  momentous  consequences.     There 
had  been  an  indistinct  allusion  to  the   possibility  of  a 
future  personal  recognition  of  each  other    by  earthly 
associates.    On  this  point,  Therese  had  before  declared 
me  a  visionary  ;  but  she  then  selected  the  interesting 
theme  as  a  key  to  the   elucidation  of  all  the  secrets  of 
our  earthly  existence.     "I  suppose,  then — said  Therese 
—  although   you  may  never  see  your  brother  Diganu 
any  more   upon  earth,  you  expect  to  meet  him  again 
in  heaven  ?"  Well  did  she  appreciate  how  the  recollec- 
tion and  mention  of  you  ever  operated  as  an  unfailing 
cordial  to  my  perturbed  spirits.   I  unhesitatingly  replied 
— "Can  I  doubt  it?     Shall  we  possess  less  discern- 
ment, knowledge,  and  Christian  affection  in  the  invisi- 
ble world  of  light  and  perfection,  than  in  this  ploomy 
vale  of  deficiency  and  sin  ?    Is  not  paradise  revealed  to 
us  as  the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first  born 
who  are  written  in  heaven,  the  spirits  of  just  men  made 
perfect  1  and  1  confidently  believe  Diganu  will  be  there  ■ 
and  I  hope  with  you,  Therese,  to  enjoy  that  sanctified 
undying  communion  of  which  on  earth  we  have  beer? 
deprived." 


176 

"  If  your  interpretation  of  the  Scriptures  be  true,  the 
anticipation  is  probable — your  mother  answered — and 
you  think  that  you  will  meet  him  with  no  other  emotion 
than  inconceivable  ecstacy."  My  reply  v  as  this — 
"  Assuredly,  the  imperfections  and  the  dross  of  our  sinful 
nature  thence  will  be  excluded  ;  and  in  the  elevation  of 
celestial  sanctity,  we  shall  be  conscious  of  nothing  hut 
the  most  refined  and  rapturous  blisa  "  My  companion 
inquired — uYou  mean,  1  suppose,  that  congenial  per- 
sons who  have  always  lived  and  loved  in  the  reciprocal 
interchange  of  the  purified  afleclions  and  benevolence 
of  Christianity,  may  thus  anticipate  a  blessed  meeting?'5 
I  responded — "JNo;  1  ihink  tie  doctrines  of  {Scripture 
make  no  exception.  Lazarus  could  not  personally  have 
known  Abrahan,  and  yet  from  our  Lords  infailihie 
delineation,  we  must  suppose;  that  the  disembodied 
beggar  realized  the  \ery  essence  of  love,  communion 
and  enjoyment  with  the  beatified  patriarch."  Therese 
rejoined — "Even  admitting  this  consolatory  truth  in  re- 
ference to  persons  who  have  nexer  known  each  other, 
but  who  had  walked  through  life  quickened  by  the 
same  grace  and  in  a  congenial  spirit,  how  will  it 
affect  those,  who,  although  subsequently  penitent  and 
converted  have  had  no  opportunity  to  redress  the 
wrongs  which  they  had  done,  and  to  make  reparation 
to  those  whom  they  had  injured  /" — I  did  not  perceive 
the  point  to  which  this  conversation  was  naturally  ten- 
ding. But  deeming  the  question  to  be  only  of  a  ge- 
neral character,  I  observed — "  The  nature  of  our  spirit- 
ual existence,  and  even  of  our  relations  in  the  New 
Jerusalem,  is  beyond  our  present  apprehensions ;  but 


177 

all  who  are  admitted  into  that  state  are  absolutely  divest- 
ed of  every  alloy,  and  consequently  the  evils  of  earth 
no  longer  will  be  sources  of  pain.  I  have  sometimes 
fancied  that  by  a  mysterious  process  now  incompre- 
hensible to  us,  even  the  recollection  of  prior  evil  may 
be  obliterated  from  the  memory  of  glorified  saints. 
This,  however,  is  not  an  article  of  faith  ;  nevertheless, 
it  may  be  useful  to  render  more  odious  that  corruption 
which  is  the  source  of  all  our  present  anguish,  and 
which,  if  not  removed  by  efficacious  grace,  will  ex- 
clude us  from  never-ending  felicity."  Therese  re- 
marked— "Eh  bien,  well !  then  I  presume,  Louise, 
that  you  would  feel  no  diminution  of  the  joys  of  para- 
dise to  meet  me  there."  I  answered,  with  manifestly 
more  tenderness  and  ardorthan  ever  your  mother  had 
before  witnessed  in  me — "Oh,  no  !  it  is  now  my  daily 
solacer  that  I  trust  I  shall  be  spared  to  witness  your 
assurance  of  hope  and  your  peaceful  removal  to  the 
city  of  the  living  God."  This  effusion  of  my  affection- 
ate feelings  was  decisive.  Therese  was  completely 
overcome.  After  a  long  pause  she  stretched  her  arms, 
lifted  her  eyes  to  heaven,  and  with  the  deepest  fervor 
and  pathos  cried  out — "  God  of  mercy,  bless  my  Louise! 
how  can  I  atone  for  the  miseries  that  I  have  inflicted 
upon  her  ?  how  can  I  express  my  gratitude  to  thee,  fqr 
the  comfort  of  her  presence  in  my  solitude  and  afilic^ 
lion?"  She  sunk  into  aspecies  of  reverie.  "Do you  think 
it  possible,  Louise— at  length  she  asked— that  I  shaJJ 
ever  meet  you  in  heaven  ;  or  that  you  can  forget  what 
I  have  been  to  you?"  There  was  a  resistless  melting  qf 
soul  in  her  tone  and  manner  which  overpowered  me  ■ 

15*  * 


178 

and  it  was  some  time  before  my  feelings  permitted  me 
to  reply — "  I  trust  that  we  shall  meet  in  heaven ;  and  I 
have  no  doubt  that  then  1  shall  not  remember  any  of 
the  painful  occurrences  to  which  you  allude  V  With  the 
most  impatient  avidity  she  inquired — "  How  can  you 
make  that  appear  ?"  I  thus  answered  her  question. 
"  Very  easily.  We  have  been  acquainted,  Therese, 
scarcely  six  months  in  this  convent,  and  my  present 
sensations  towards  you  are  as  different  Iroin  those 
which  harrowed  my  bosom,  when  I  read  your  letter  in 
the  garden,  as  the  recoil  from  a  serpent  is  unlike  to 
the  embrace  of  a  friend." 

Your  mother  had  conducted  me  to  the  very  point, 
where  our  conversation  had  imperceptibly  tended. 
After  a  short  pause,  in  which  we  had  been  meditating 
Upon  that  change  in  our  mutual  relations,  which  our 
joint  unpremeditated  avowals  had  unfolded,  she  glan- 
ced me  with  expressive  solicitude  and  tenderness} 
and  again  asked — "  Do  you  sincerely  believe  that  you 
will  meet  Diganu  in  the  paradise  of  the  blessed  ?"  I 
replied — "  All  that  I  once  knew  of  him,  and  all  which 
Rohoirsic  has  since  so  imperfectly  stated,  convinces  me 
that  upon  Christian  principles,  such  a  confidence  may 
securely  be  indulged."  Therese  impatiently  inquired  ; 
f{  Then  if  I  should  be  there  as  you  wish,  how  will 
your  brother  meet  me  ?"  I  instantly  discerned  how 
adroitly  Therese  had  completed  her  design  ;  but.  it  was 
too  late  to  retract,  and  I  was  obliged  to  narrate  my 
history  from  the  period  of  my  departure  from  Lorette 
-until  the  day  of  our  wretched  separation.     The  story 


179 

was  beneficial  to  our  mother.  From  it  she  derived 
encouragement.  In  unfolding  my  pungent  exercises, 
she  saw  a  reflection  of  her  own  agonized  feelings  ; 
and  by  the  slow  advances  which  I  made  in  tiie  acquisi- 
tion of  saving  knowledge,  she  was  supported  with  the 
hope  that  her  personal  attainments  were  not  fruitless ; 
while  in  the  confidence,  that  the  incorruptible  seed  had 
been  formed  in  your  heart,  my  dear  Diganu,  she  ex- 
pressed unfeigned  gratitude  to  the  Friend  of  sinners. 
The  varied  subjects,  which  flowed  from  this  review  of 
my  life  while  I  resided  with  you,  furnished  a  plentiful 
source  of  thought  and  investigation.  Our  subsequent 
intercourse,  however,  was  very  irregular.  Frequently 
our  dialogues  were  little  more  than  question  and  answer, 
or  a  remark  en  passant,  as  I  read  the  Scriptures  or  some 
author  whose  remarks  interested  us.  Only  when 
neither  of  us  was  depressed  by  our  languor  and  ner- 
vous feelings,  did  we  appear  temporarily  to  forget  our- 
selves,  our  situation  and  our  debility. 

"  Louise — said  the  sufferer  one  day,  as  I  was  reading 
to  her  Massillou's  sermon,  '  sur  les  Elus' — ]  cannot 
comprehend  how  any  persons  can  know  that  they  shall 
be  saved."  In  reply  I  observed — "Of  all  our  mental 
exercises,  and  of  all  our  religious  experience,  the  in- 
quiries connected  with  this  anxiety  are  the  most  inter- 
esting and  important."  Therese  remarked — "  So  I 
now  feel ;  and  the  eloquent  discourse  which  you  are 
reading  induces  me  to  interrupt  your  progress,  that  I 
may  understand  by  what  means  you  have  been 
enabled  to  speak  so  confidently  upon  that  point."     My 


180 


answer  was — "  I  do  not  know  how  to  explain  this 
subject,  unless  I  retrace  my  own  convictions  and 
experience."  Your  mother  rejoined — "That  is  exactly 
my  meaning.  I  seem  to  apprehend  better  the  nature 
of  truth  when  it  is  embodied  in  the  personal  exercises *. 
and  when  you  say,  thus  I  thought,  and  felt,  and  acted, 
it  impresses  my  mind  with  double  force  ;  because  it 
gives  to  the  illustration  of  doctrine  all  the  weight  of  cre- 
dible testimony."  I  subjoined — {:  Already  I  have  inti- 
mated to  you.  Therese,  that  eighteen  months,  or  more, 
elapsed  from  the  time  of  Marguerite's  communications 
until  the  beginning  of  my  residence  with  Diganu.  The 
whole  of  that  period  was  a  time  almost  of  darkness.  I 
teamed  to  detest  the  grosser  iniquity  which  passed  be- 
fore me  ;  but  I  had  no  opportunity  or  means  to  acquire 
the  evangelical  substitute.  I  abhorred  the  hypocrisy 
and  the  licentiousness  of  the  Jesuits,  and  their  abandon- 
ed associates  in  crime,  but  I  knew  nothing  of  Chris- 
tian sincerity  and  the  holiness  of  the  gospel.  All  the 
attempts  to  convince  me,  that  after  death  man  is  n© 
more,  were  unavailing.  My  soul  revolted  from  the 
idea  of  living  in  sensuality,  and  then  to  be  annihilated, 
A  dawning  of  light  came  upon  my  mind  respecting 
the  reality  of  Purgatory,  and  the  worship  of  saints  and 
images  ;  but  I  do  not  remember  that  my  doubts  led 
Co  any  essential  result.  My  disbelief  of  the  Mass  was 
more  influential;  for  Marguerite,  in  the  form  of  two 
questions,  had  given  me  a  theme  for  constant  examina- 
tion. Incidentally  she  had  mentioned  something 
about  confession  an<l  going  to  Mass  at  Easter — c  do  you. 
tfrink  ;  asked  the  dying  Christian  :  that  the  holy  Sa* 


181 

viour  would  permit  himself  to  be  handled  by  the  vilest 
sinners  in  the  world?  Can  you  believethat  such  wretch- 
es as  the  Jesuit  Priests  whom  I  have  described  to  you 
are  able  to  turn  a  morsel  of  dough  into  their  God,  and 
then  swallow  the  Almighty  7"  Therese  suddenly 
interposed — "Well,  indeed  that  is  extraordinary.  In 
my  worst  days,  that  very  notion  sometimes  came  int# 
my  miad  ;  but  it  only  hardened  my  conscience.  It 
induced  me  to  esteem  and  even  delight  in  the  opinion, 
that,  all  the  pictures  of  Purgatory  and  the  Jesuit's  ter- 
rific denunciations  about  the  future  hell,  were  only  a 
phantom,  and  that  religion  itself  was  their  own  cunning* 
artifice  and  priestcraft.     But  go  on  with  your  story." 

"The  influence  of  this  question  was  great  and  per- 
manent— I  continued — because  it  led  me  to  understand 
something  of  the  monstrous  absurdities  of  their  system, 
to  which  we  were  required  to  assent  upon  pain  of  ana- 
thema, and  which  sentence  of  excommunication,  I 
have  nodoubf,often  constitutes  the  excuse  for  the, secret 
murder  of  their  abused  victims,  wTlien  they  no  longer 
delight  the  Priests."  Therese,  with  a  most  expressive 
and  melancholy  countenance,  nodded  her  assent.  "Mar- 
guerite paused  for  my  answer,  1  added — '  1  must  not 
dispute  our  holy  mother  the  Church — was  my  reply — 
you  know  the  Priests  teach  us,  that  this  is  a  deep 
mystery  not  to  be  pryed  into  by  the  common  people, 
but  only  to  be  believed  and  adored.'  The  old  woman 
rather  pettishly  retorted — "  Nonsense  ;  if  a  Jesuit  tells 
me  that  he  can  change  the  river  into  a  horse,  must  I 
believe  him  ?  and  when  to  prove  it,  he  has  mumbled 


182 

aver  some  Latin  which  I  neither  hear  nor  understand 
am  I  to  admit  his  assertion  to  be  true,  although  I  see 
the  river  flowing  before  my  eyes,  and  can  drink  its 
water  as  usual  ?     Ah  !  ma  chere,  my  dear ;  they  de- 
ceive you,  and  unless  you  take  care,  you  will  find  that 
wicked  infidels  who  talk  and  peiform  such  blasphemy 
concerning  God,  with  more  impudence,  will  avow  and 
practise   their   beastly   principles  respecting   women." 
Therese  hastily  remarked — "  Marguerite  well  under- 
stood the  subject.       Her  inference  was  correct.     Per- 
sons who  can  be  seduced  to  profess  as  their  belief,  that 
a  shameless  Raman  Priest  can  make  the  Lo;d  Jesus 
Christ  tor  us  to  eat,  can  be  taught  to  affirm  every  ab- 
surdity and  corruption.      A.s   a  natural  consequence, 
when  we  are  assured  that  the  Jesuit  holds  our  destiny 
in   his  hands,  to  insure  his  favor,  we  submit  to   all 
that  he  wishes  and  orders.     This  I  wofully  know  to  be 
true ;    but  what  was  the  result   in   your  own   medita- 
tions ?"    To  this  question  I  replied — "  I  was  in  contin- 
ual perplexity,  not  so  much  from  the  doctrinal  contra- 
diction which  she  adduced  as  from  its  application  :    but 
I  could  never  afterwards  separate  the  ideas  which  she 
thus  had  combined.     I  was  assuredly  convinced,  that 
it  demanded    less  effrontery   to  seduce  a  thoughtless 
girl,  than  to  propound  as  the  fundamental  article  of 
religious   faith,   a  blasphemous^   utter   impossibility. 
The  scenes    which    I   had    witnessed,    the   opinions 
which  I  heard,  the  attempts  to  corrupt  my  own  princi- 
ples, my  aversion  to  the  hypocritical  course  of  life  con- 
tinually around   me,  the  contrasts  between  demure 
Bess  and  levity,  profession   and  practice,  guilt  and 


183 

absolution,  and  the  recollection  of  Maguerite7s  picture 
of  conventual  life,  all  convinced  me  of  her  veracity, 
and  I  tacitly  admitted  that  the  Priest's  system  and 
doings  are  equally  detestable  ;  but  I  had  no  truth  arid 
Do  sancity  as  an  equivalent.  Long  before  we  went  to 
Jacques  Cartier,  I  had  secretly  rejected  the  adoration  of 
images  and  the  invocation  of  saints,  except  when  I 
was  obliged  to  join  with  others  in  the  ceremonial  ;  but 
then  I  was  an  infidel,  for  I  used  no  other  worship,. 
My  situation,  however,  may  be  briefly  described  as  a 
state*  if  desire.  1  perceived  the  gross  darkness  and 
danger  of  my  previous  condition,  and  I  longed  for  light 
and  deliverance.  That  I  had  gone  astray  as  a  lost 
sheep,  I  clearly  ascertained  :  but  how  to  discover  the 
fight  path  1  knew  not ;  nevertheless,  it  was  my  con- 
stant solicitude.  Without  exactly  comprehending  my 
object,  doubtless  I  often  silently  prayed  foi  right  instruc- 
tion ;  and  1  distinctly  recollect,  that  I  realized  a  restless 
anxiety  to  read  that  Bible,  of  which  Marguerite  had 
spoken.  Thus  the  time  passed  ;  if  I  did  not  under- 
stand  truth  and  goodness,  that  I  might  love  and  enjoy 
them  ;  I  very  clearly  discerned  that  which  was  gross- 
!y  erro-eous  and  evil,  and  the  curse  of  them,  I  deter- 
mined resolutely  to  avoid."  Your  Mother  remarked— 
*'  In  many  points,  1  can  understand  these  ex  rcises.  Some 
of  these  feelings  which  you  have  specified  have  been 
my  own  ;  only  combined  with  other  sensations,  which 
you  happily  can  never  know.  I  cannot  say  that  I  have 
possessed  the  great  desire  of  which  you  speak,  neither 
had  I  some  time  since  the  faintest  glimpse  of  the  true 
light ;  but  I  perceived  that  all  which  I  had   believed 


184 

;o  be  true  was  false,  and  that  my  whole  life  was  ao 
odious  tissue  of  atrocious  criminality.  Ah!  what  fires 
of  misery  did  the  review  enkindle  in  my  bosom — and 
Faying  her  hand  on  her  heart  with  most  affecting  emotion 
— they  are  not  yet  extinguished  ;  but  thanks  be  to  God ! 
fliese  were  not  intertwined  with  your  other  sufferings. 
You  had  not  the  gnawing  worm  of  sleepless  remorse 
to  add  horror  to  your  gloom,  and  an  agonized  conscience 
thundering  wo  and  despair  both  asleep  and  awake— 
and  clasping  her  hands,  after  a  long  pause,  amid  con= 
vulsive  shuddering,  she  faintly  articulated — "  God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner!" 

*'-  Ah?  Therese  ! — I  answered — e\Tery  heart  knowetL 
"its  own  bitterness.     I  cannot  unfold  to  you  what  I  feltr 
what  for  a  long  time  I  realized,  and  what  even  now 
.frequently  agitates  me,  when  I  recur  to  that  eventful 
night,  in  which  Diganu  and  Chretien  so  providentially 
discovered   me.     Often   am  I  almost   petrified   at  the 
thought  of  my  then  hopeless  situation.     But  God  has 
been  very  gracious  to  me.     Yet  when    I  reflect,  that  I 
was  on  the  very  threshhold  of  the  eternal   world,  an 
unthinking,  and  impenitent  sinner  more  !  0  !  who  can 
bear  the  awful   thought;  probably  chargnble  with  a 
mad  jump  from  the  icy  rock  at  Lorette  into  the  abyss  of 
everlasting  fire  ;  I  also  have  passed  through  hours   of 
anguish,  and  shed  tears  of  sorrow,    for  which   all  that 
earth  calls  good  and  great,  as  a  compensation,    would 
be  less  than  nothing  and  vanity."     Therese  observed— 
"  I  have  always  acquitted  you  of  any  impropriety  and 
guilt  on  that  occasion ;   for  I  thought  you  said  that 


185 

you  were  not  conscious,  and  had  no  recollection  ef  any 
thing  which  succeeded  after  you  stood  in  the  front  of 
the  church,  until  you  found  yourself  among  the  Indian 
women  ?  "  I  replied — "  That  is  the  very  point  in 
which  I  am  so  wonderfully  indebted  to  the  goodness  of 
God.  Could  I  be  convinced,  that  in  the  full  possession 
of  my  senses  as  a  rational,  accountable  creature,  I  had 
attempted  the  leap  from  that  memorable  rock,  I  should 
never  know  abiding  peace.  But  as  your  own  expe- 
lience  has  told  you,  nothing  is  more  difficult  than  for 
persons  to  draw  the  precise  line  of  distinction  between 
the  sudden  paroxysms  of  an  irresponsible  delirium,  and 
that  effervescence  which  is  both  the  cause  and  the 
effect  of  guilt.  To  illustrate  exactly  my  meaning,  I 
will  appeal  to  yourself,  Therese  ;  does  your  conscience 
acquit  you  of  all  guilt,  because  in  many  of  those  acts 
which  you  most  lament  and  abhor,  you  were  inveigled 
by  the  sophistry  and  enticements  of  the  Jesuit  Pretres  ?w 
— She  instantly  replied — "Oh,  no  !  I  fee]  that  I  was 
basely  criminal  'J  I  then  propounded  the  question 
— "  But  you  would  not  voluntarily  have  engaged  in 
those  shocking  acts  ?"  In  answer  Therese  observed 
— "  Assuredly  not.  Vitiated  as  were  my  sentiments,, 
the  sins  which  I  committed  most  probably  would  have 
been  avoided  had  I  been  surrounded  with  associates  of 
different  principles,  character,  and  habits.1'  I  rejoined 
— "  Then  you  at  once  perceive  the  difficulty  of  my 
distinguishing  between  that  which  was  voluntary  and 
criminal,  and  that  which  was  the  consequence  of  physi- 
cal and  moral  incapacity.  It  was  my  grand  defect  on 
that  occasion  that  I  did  not  offer  my  broken  incoherent 
16 


186 

prayer  to  God.  I  had  no  correct  idea  of  the  blessed 
Savior,  as  our  refuge  and  strength  in  distress,  the 
hearer  of  prayer,  or  deliverer,  a  house  of  defence,  and 
a  very  present  help  in  trouble  ;  but  he  pitied  my 
ignorance,  and  according  to  his  promise,  answered  be- 
fore I  called.  Notwithstanding  my  inability  to  defmc 
all  the  demerit  attached  to  this  crisis  of  my  life,  yet  it 
has  been  an  unfailing  source  of  humility  and  gratitude  ; 
and  as  1  became  more  spiritually  enlightened,  that 
wondrous  interposition  of  his  merciful  providence  en- 
kindled and  has  cherished  a  hope,  which  by  his  Spirit's 
aid  has  hitherto  defied  all  the  calamity  and  hardships 
that  since  have  been  my  portion.  Butltt  me  ask  you 
another  question,  Therese.  When  you  were  living 
without  God  in  the  world,  can  you  assert,  that  during 
the  long  revolution  of  years,  you  were  altogether  un- 
conscious of  the  true  character  of  your  actions  ?" 

"  Unconscious  ! — she  remarked,  after  a  pause — No, 
indeed  ;  full  wTell  did  I  know,  alas  !  greedily  did  1  eat 
the  forbidden  fruit  ;  or  why  should  1  now  be  tortured 
with  the  retrospect  ?"  To  this  acknowledgment  1  an- 
swered— "This  then  is  the  argument  for  genuine  con- 
trition. Of  the  evils  of  which  we  are  undeniably  guil- 
ty, there  can  be  no  hesitation  respecting  the  duty  of 
penitence:  but  as  we  are  so  prone  to  deceive  ourselves, 
even  in  reference  to  those  of  which  the  guilt  is  not  so 
perceptible,  probably  the  Judge  of  all  decides  against 
us,  and  consequently  the  only  mode  is  to  cast  ourselves 
at  the  footstool  of  mercy,  before  the  throne  of  gnice, 
praying  that-  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.,  we  may 


187 

be  delivered  from  the  body  of  this  death."  Therese  in- 
quired— "How  long  did  you  continue  in  th^t  hesitating, 
or  rather  beclouded  state  of  mind  in  which  you  left 
the  Pretre  !"  My  reply  to  this  question  gratified  your 
mother.  "  I  perceived  immediately  after  my  arrival 
at  Diganu's  house,  that  he  and  Chretien,  like  their 
associates,  were  thoughtless  and  indifferent  to  all  good  • 
but  that  they  indulged  no  directly  flagrant  sinful  habits, 
There  is  an  attractive  naivete  about  Diganu  ;  and  I 
became  deeply  interested  in  him.  My  apartment 
was  amply  provided  with  idolatrous  trash,  which  I 
speedily  removed  ;  and  took  the  earliest  opportunity 
to  provide  myself  a  Bible.  That  treasure  I  obtained 
through  the  medium  of  an  American  prisoner  or  re- 
fugee who  visited  us,  and  with -whom  Chretien  was 
intimate  ;  and  who  piously  exulted,  as  he  said,  in  my 
escape  from  the  captivity  of  tie  devil.  He  ■  arked  a 
number  of  passages  which  he  requested  me  first  to  read 
and  study  ;  and  gave  me  a.Uo  a  book  of  prayers  ;  and 
thus  reminded  me  of  Marguerite's  admonition  to  pray 
for  wisdom  that  I  might  comprehend  the  Scriptures. 
The  light  soon  beamed  upon  my  mind.  God  who  is  rich 
in  mercy  knew  the  buidens  which  I  should  have  to  bear, 
and  therefore  kindly  provided  me  with  all  the  strength 
necessary  for  my  task.  He  blessed  the  perusal  of  his 
own  book  to  my  soul ;  and  having  cast  off  my  idols,  I 
submitted  myself  entirely  to  his  disposal.  Still  I  was  a 
mere  child  in  Christian  knowledge.  I  dared  not  to  go 
out.  I  had  no  helper  or  assistant;  and  my  chief  acquisi- 
tion was  fortitude  in  discarding  my  former  errors,  and  in 
adhering  to  evangelical  truth,  as  it  might  be  revealed  to 


188 

my  understanding."  Therese  remarked — "Yet  it 
appears  to  me ;  that  you  mast  have  attained  much 
acquaintance  with  the  Scriptures,  to  have  rendered  you 
so  bold  in  defending  your  opinions  to  Diganu  and 
Chretien."  In  answer  I  observed. — "  That  was  only 
after  their  discovery  of  my  principles.  Often  did  we 
converse  upon  the  subject  of  their  worship  and  professed 
belief,  and  as  they  advanced  the  common  place  non- 
sense in  their  own  support,  I  was  obliged  to  defend 
my  novel  opinions;  and  I  thank  God,  that  he  so  en 
abled  me  to  justify  myself,  that  Diganu  became  a  sin- 
cere disciple  before  we  were  separated,  and  Chretien 
was  so  well  disposed  that  the  closing  scene  at  Lorette 
opened  his  eyes.  I  was  more  ihan  a  match  for  them 
at  disputation,  because  I  was  assisted  by  the  word  of 
truth  ;  but  in  reference  to  the  experimental  application 
of  the  divine  oracles,  I  knew  very  little." 

"  That  is  the  point — subjoined  Therese— from  which 
we  have  diverged.  I  want  t»  understand  how  the 
truth  becomes  so  clear  and  powerful  in  the  mind,  that 
we  can  be  assured  of  our  future  happiness  ?" — I  re 
plied  thus — "  It  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  explain  a 
little.  I  suppose  you  will  admit,  when  the  Saviour 
said  to  the  woman  in  Simon's  house,  '  thy  sins  are  for- 
given thae,  thy  faith  hath  saved  thee,  go  in  peace  ;'  that 
she  knew  to  all  certainty  that  she  was  accepted  of  God, 
and  interested  in  his  favor.>"  Therese  nodded  her  assent, 
n  But  how  did  she  become  assured  of  it?"  I  asked. 
"Because  the  Saviour  affirmed  it" — answered  Therese 
T  next  inquired — "  But  was  it  for  her  virtues,  her 


189 

merits,  her  excuses,  or  her  knowledge,  that  she  wa3  re 
ceived  and  absolved  ?"    Therese  said— "  No,  it  was  of 
God's  mercy,  I  suppose,  for  she  could  not  pay  the  debt. 
She  cast  herself  in  humble  reliance  upon  his  goodness  ; 
believed  in  his  power ;  and  loved  him  for  his  favor  be 
stowed  upon  her.     But  how  does  thi3  affect  the  question 
of  our  knowledge,  when  Jesus  Christ  is  not  here   per- 
sonally to  speak  to  us  ?M  I  replied— ;'  The  Scriptures 
are  given  us  as  a  rule  by   which  to  try  our   spiritual 
condition.     Ail   the   doctrines  which  we  read  must  be 
received  as  if  God  himself  proclaimed  them,  as  he  did 
the  law  from  Mount  Sinai.     All  his  commandments 
must  be  acknowledged,  as  if  they  were  enforced  upon 
us  by  miracles.     All  his  threatenings  must  be  credited 
as  much  as  if  we  were  witnessing  their  actual  fulfilment. 
in  the  case  of  Pharaoh.     And  all  his  promises  should 
be  accepted  and  applied   by  faith  equally   as  though 
they  were  directly  addressed  to  us;  provided  only, that 
we  can  humbly  hope  the  characteristics  of  his  disciples 
are  descriptive  of  ourselves."     Therese  again  asked — 
<:  But  may  we  not  be  deceived  in  our  estimate  of  our 
own  state  before  God  V    I  answered — "Certainly  :  but 
God  hath  promised  to  guide  those  into  all  truth,  who 
patiently  wait  for  his  instructions  and  confide  in  his 
word  ;  and  as  his  blessed  revelation  is  given  expressly  tc 
enlighten  our  darkness,  we  may  confidently  hope,  that 
he  will  not  withdraw  its  shinings."    Therese  rejoined — 
"  I  do  not  perceive  how  this  excludes  the  difficulty, 
ilany  cannot  read  the  word,  and  consequently  Will 
have  to  lose  its  benefits  in  illustrating  their  true  situa- 
:; :  i  before  Got!."    In  reply  I  remarked — "Foi 


190 

purpose,  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel  were  appointed 
to  teach  the  people  the  way  of  righteousness   both 
in   word   and   doctrine,   that   they    may   be   able  to 
grow  in  grace."     Your  mother  answered — "So  then 
it  seems  after  all  that  we  must  have  recourse  to  the 
Priest,  and   believe  all  that  he  utters."     My  rejoind- 
er was  this — " Exactly  the  contrary.     The  Priest's  lips 
should  keep  knowledge,  and  the  people  should  search 
the  Scriptures.     If  the  Bible  were  open  to  every  man's 
inspection,  then  it  is  plain  that  the   Priests  could   not 
propagate   their  wonderful  and  soul-destroying  delu- 
sions ;  and  every  person   would  learn  to  peruse  the 
contents  of  the  Gospel   for    himself     But   now   the 
Priests  prohibit  the  people  from  all  knowledge   both  in 
the  means  and  end  ;  and  thus  in  cunning  craftiness, 
lie  in  wait  to  deceive.     Besides  I  would  ask  you,  The- 
rese,  whether  it  is  not  much  more  probable,  that  ano- 
ther person  who  can  only  judge  by  the  outward  appear- 
ance will  be  deceived  in  deciding  our  true  characters, 
rather  than  a  sincere  believer  who  knows   the  plague 
of  his  own  heart,  and  who  closely   examines   himself 
by  the  word  of  God?    And  also  is  it  not  much  more 
likely,  that  he  will  be  deluded  in  estimating  his   own 
character  who  trusts  to  the  opinion  of  a   Jesuit,  whose 
declaration  will   be    given  according   to  the   money 
which  he  expects  to  receive  ;  rather  than  he  who  ap- 
proaches unto  God  with  all  sincerity,  uttering  David's 
impressive  prayer,  'search  me,  O  God,  and  know  my 
heart ;   try  me  and  know  my  thoughts  ;   and  see  if 
there  be  any  wicked  way  in  me,  and  lead  me   in 
the  way  everlasting?"    Therese  answered — "  I  sup- 
pose therefore,  from  what  you  have  said;  that  the  as- 


191 

suraii ce  of  which  you  speak  is  obtained  only  from  a 
comparison  of  our  hearts  and  characters  with  the  word 
of  God  ;  and  according  as  that  determines  we  are  to 
believe."  Upon  this  remark  I  observed — "  Undoubt- 
edly ;  because  the  Gospel  assures  us,  that  by  it  we  at 
last  shall  be  judged.  If  the  Scripture  had  said,  that 
God  would  pronounce  our  final  sentence  according  to 
the  will  of  a  Jesuit  Priest,  there  would  be  a  clear  rule 
of  duty  implied,  to  secure  his  favor  at  any  sacrifice  ; 
but  so  far  fro  n  it,  the  Judge  of  all  authoritatively  pro 
mounces,  that  every  person  shall  give  an  account  of 
himself  unto  God  ;  and  be  judged  according  to  that  he 
hath  done  in  tbe  body,  whether  it  be  good  or  bad,  with- 
out any  reference  to  the  reproach  or  approbation  of 
mankind." 

"But  if  we  are  sinners,  and  of  that  I  am  certain — 
Therese  objected — and  we  shall  be  judged  according 
to  our  doings,  I  do  not  yet  comprehend  how  we  shall 
escape  condign  punishment  ;  and  therefore  I  cannot 
admit  that  there  is  any  sure  foundation  for  that  strong 
confidence  of  which  you  speak.  Indeed,  it  appears 
to  me  to  partake  very  much  of  the  same  presumption 
that  in  the  Pieties  we  condemn."  I  thus  replied — 
"  The  cases  are  totally  different.  In  trusting  for  ever- 
lasting life  upon  the  plain  direct  testimony  of  the  word 
of  God,  we  only  receive  the  consolation  which  the 
Scriptures  were  intended  to  bestow  upon  the  humble, 
broken  hearted  penitent :  but  in  listening  to  a  Priest's 
absolution,  we  rob  God  of  his  divine  prerogative  to  par- 
don sins:  and  though  the  Scriptures  plainly  declare 
the  will  of  the  heavenly  Majesty,  yet  we  believe  a  sin  - 


192 

ful  Pretre  when  he  asserts  a  direct  contradiction  to  the 
truth  of  Jehovah."  Therese  im patiently  said — "Now 
I  begin  to  discern  ;  it  never  struck  me  so  clearly  before, 
that  a  Priest's  pretended  claim  to  absolve  from  sin  is 
an  insult  to  the  Divine  Being,  and  a  power  which  in  its 
very  nature  can  only  belong  to  the  Searcher  of  Hearts  ; 
but  this  has  not  yet  relieved  my  mind  in  reference  to  the 
bad  doings  of  mankind.  Knowing  himself  to  be  guilty 
before  God  of  innumerable  sins,  how  can  be  say,  yet  I 
am  saved?"  I  rejoined — "  You  already  have  admitted 
the  fact  in  reference  to  the  woman  in  Simon's  house, 
when  the  Lord  audibly  spoke  to  her.  The  principle 
and  the  result  are  the  same,  although  the  medium  dif- 
fers." Therese  earnestly  interposed — "Explain  your 
self."  I  continued — "  The  Gospel  proclaims  to  every 
laboring,  heavy  laden  sinner,  that  if  he  will  approach 
unto  Christ,  the  Saviour  will  receive  him  and  give  him 
vest.  Now  this  presupposes  a  consciousness  of  the  bur- 
den of  guilt ;  an  earnest  desire  of  deliverance  from  it ; 
unfeigned  sorrow  for  the  cause  of  the  weighty  load  ; 
and  hope  with  confidence  in  the  willingness  and  ability 
of  the  Saviour  to  give  peace  to  our  souls."  Therese 
remarked — "  Still  I  do  not  comprehend  the  application 
of  this  certainty  to  the  understanding  and  the  con- 
science." To  this  observation,  I  replied  thus — "  The 
work  of  Divine  mercy  in  the  heart  of  man  is  through 
faith  as  the  instrument.  Every  thing  made  known  in 
the  Scripture  is  a  subject  of  pure  belief.  Its  former  his 
•  tories,  its  prophecies  yet  to  be  fulfilled,  its  sublime  and 
unearthly  doctrines,  its  purely  spiritual  requisitions,  its 
awful  denunciations  in  reference  to  eternity  ;  and  itr 


193 

consolatory  promises  of  glory  everlasting  are  none 
of  them  objects  of  sense  ;  so  that  without  faith,  the 
Bible  and  its  treasures  are  to  us  a  non-entity/'  The- 
rese  hastily  interrupted  me — "Now  I  see.  You  have 
opened  the  way  for  me  to  escape  from  all  my  anxie- 
ties upon  this  topic,  but  go  on  !"  I  continued — "It  is 
plain  therefore  ;  that  all  the  portions  of  Divine  truth 
rest  upon  similar  authority,  and  that  the  basis  of  our 
trust  is  the  same.  The  Christian  assuredly  believes, 
that  the  Saviour  died  and  rose  again,  upon  the  general 
truth  of  Divine  revelation  as  affirmed  by  the  most  pow- 
erful testimony  :  but  does  not  the  sacred  book  bv  the 
same  apostolic  writer  also  declare  in  the  connected 
sentence,  '  Jesus  our  Lord  was  delivered  for  our  offen- 
ces, and  was  raised  again  for  our  justification.'  Now  if 
we  deny  the  latter,  how  can  we  believe  the  other  ?  For 
Paul  joins  them  together,  thereby  to  declare  both  the 
cause  and  the  effect  of  the  Lord's  death  and  resurrec- 
tion." Therese  asked — "  Are  not  these  expressions 
general  and  only  intended  to  convey  the  meaning,  that 
the  Saviourdied  to  expiate  sin,  and  to  bestow  righteous- 
ness, without  any  particular  design."  My  answer  was 
prompt — "  Certainly  not,  for  the  benefits  of  the  gospel 
are  all  purely  personal  This  you  will  perceive,  if  you 
remember  that  the  figurative  expressions  which  are 
used  concerning  religion  imply  our  own  wants  and 
the  supply  of  them.  The  consolations  of  redeeming 
mercy  are  called  the  bread  of  life,  the  water  of  life,  the 
pearl  of  great  price,  medicine,  raiment,  healing,  pardon, 
communion  and  friendship.  These  are  all  personal 
acquisitions,  and  pre-suppose  a  direct  participation,  or 


194 

these  blessings  would  be  useless.  When,  therefore, 
pure  religion  and  undefiled  is  revealed  as  justification, 
adoption,  wisdom,  and  an  inheritance,  all  these 
terms  necessarily  purport  that  they  are  individual 
attainments  and  possessions.  The  greatest  privilege 
and  attraction  of  Christianity  are,  that  it  is  a  matter  of 
personal  concern  to  all  its  disciples." 

Therese  rejoined — "  I  suppose  then,  you  mean  that 
we  are  not  only  to  believe  that  all  the  advantages  of 
the  gospel  are  designed  by  God  to  be  generally  dis- 
tributed ;  but  that  every  person  may  clrim  and  obtain 
the  supply  of  mercy  according  to  his  own  necessities  ?"  I 
answered — "  Exactly,  and  it  is  upon  this  very  principle 
of  appropriation,  that  the  humble  and  sincere  believer 
assuredly  confides.'"  Your  mother  then  inquired — "Do 
you  think,  Louise,  that  this  confidence  may  not  be  fal- 
lacious ?"  My  reply  was  this — "  We  may  be  deceived, 
Therese  ;  but  the  cause  of  the  delusion  will  be  in  our- 
selves. We  cannot  have  complied  with  the  rules  in 
that  case  to  ascertain  a  correct  decision."  Therese 
said — "  That  is  the  very  idea  which  I  wish  you  to  illus- 
trate ;  because  I  think  I  bhall  have  more  satisfaction, 
if  I  can  correctly  understand  this  important  matter." 
I  subjoined  to  my  former  remarks — "  I  have  already 
stated  that  the  whole  word  of  God  is  to  be  equally 
credited  as  of  one  authority.  Hence,  the  duties  must 
be  performed,  as  well  as  the  doctrines  and  promises  be- 
lieved." I  paused,  and  Therese  signified  her  approba 
tion  of  the  sentiment.  I  then  proceeded — "  Conse- 
quently, the  inquiry  must  be  entered   upon   according 


195 

to  the  prescriptions  of  the  sacred  volume.  The  Biblt 
proclaims  pardon  to  the  guilty  penitent  sinnner  as  an 
infallible  truth,  therefore  the  sole  questions  are  ;  have 
I  experienced  that  godly  sorrow  which  needs  not  to  be 
repented  of?  Do  I  unfeignedly  credit  what  the  Almigh- 
ty saith  ?  Have  I  received  the  heavenly  message  of 
his  Son,  Jesus  Christ  ?  And  the  true  answer  is  to  be 
known  only  by  the  fruits  :  hatred  of  sin,  a  hearty  sur- 
render to  the  Lord's  service,  and  a  steadfast  determina- 
tion to  believe  and  to  do  what  God  shall  require  of  us  ; 
to  abstain  from  all  evil,  and  to  follow  on  to  know  the 
Lord,  that  I  may  live  to  his  glory  here,  and  dwell  in 
his  presence  for  ever.  Now,  do  you  not  think,  The- 
rese,  that  a  person  with  an  honest  anxiety  not  to  be 
mistaken,  might  attain  to  a  conviction  that  these  were 
his  governing  dispositions?"  Therese  answered— "  I 
should  believe  so  were  it  not  for  the  corruption  and  de- 
ceitfulness  of  the  human  heart.  I  therefore  asked  her 
— "  But  do  you  not  recollect,  that  God  has  promised, 
'my  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee,"  ihat  he  will  shine  into 
the  hearts  of  his  people  by  his  grace :  that  light  is 
sown  for  the  righteous  ;  and  that  they  shall  not  effec- 
tually, be  led  astray.  The  language  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament often  expresses  the  utmost  certainty — "  I  know 
in  whom  I  have  believed  ;  we  know-  that  we  have 
passed  from  death  unto  life;  and  we  know  (hat  his 
testimony  is  true,  that  believing  we  might  have  life 
through  his  name  ;"  with  a  rich  variety  of  similar  pas- 
sages, all  encouraging  the  humble  disciple  of  the  Re^ 
deemer,  to  cultivate  and  enjoy  the  full  assurance  of 
jfrith  and  hope."    Therese  replied — <;  I  now  very  plainly 


196 

perceive,  that  religion  is  more  a  personal  thing  of  the 
heart,  than  I  had  ever  yet  understood  it.  I  have  only 
therefore  to  request,  Louise,  that  you  will  pray  for  me? 
that  I  may  receive  this  promised  light  and  comfort." 

Our  intercourse  was  partially  suspended  for  some 
days,  and  it  was  manifest  that  Therese's  attention  was 
engrossed  by  the  searching  application  of  Divine  truth 
to  her  conscience.  I  rejoiced  to  understand,  that  she 
was  deeply  solicitous  not  t©  decide  incorrectly  respecting 
her  eternal  welfare.  There  was  such  a  vast  abyss  of 
degeneracy  both  in  theory  and  practice  to  be  extermi- 
nated, that  she  often  expressed  a  doubt  concerning  the 
willingness  of  the  Saviour  to  ransom  her;  and  I  was 
pleased  to  hear  her  remark — "  I  have  one  fearful  sub- 
ject to  embarrass  me,  Louise ;  whether  all  my  compunc- 
tion and  hatred  of  sin  may  not  be  the  consequence 
only  of  my  bodily  sufferings,  and  the  dread  of  judg- 
ment and  future  punishment."  I  replied — "Are  you 
sincere  in  your  present  exercises  and  desires?"  After 
a  pause,  she  answered — "  1  think  I  am  :  I  have  endea- 
voured to  bring  my  conscience,  with  all  its  truth  and 
energy,  to  bear  upon  my  former  hateful  principles  and 
conduct ;  and  I  humbly  hope,  that  I  can  truly  say,  I 
long  to  be  filled  with  Christian  simplicity  and  godly  sin- 
cerity." To  this  declaration,  I  replied — "  If  the  Lord 
should  restore  you  to  health,  could  you,  would  you 
enter  again  upon  the  same  course  of  life,  supposing  that 
you  should  be  without  restriction?'  Therese  shuddered  ; 
and  with  all  the  strength  which  she  could  assume,  she 
said— " Never,  no  never;  I  prefer  death  even  now, 


197 

with  all  its  perplexing  uncertainties."  I  subjoined—* 
11  Then  your  character  must  be  changed."  She  in- 
stantly added— "That  is  certain;  but  the  important 
query  follows ;  is  it  the  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus  ? 
I  shall  never  be  pacified,  until  I  can  ascertain  satis- 
factorily,  that  the  old  things  are  passed  away." 

On  a  subsequent  occasion,  I  communicated  to 
Therese,  some  of  the  more  memorable  points  of  my 
experience  during  my  stay  in  the  convents,  part  of 
which  she  knew  :  for  although  I  was  unconscious  of 
£he  fact,  she  long  continued  to  reside  in  the  same 
Nunnery.  The  narrative  was  beneficial  to  her ;  a? 
it  illustrated  the  operation  of  Divine  truth  upon  my 
mind,  and  proved  that  neither  the  solitude,  privations, 
hardships,  nor  burdens  of  my  almost  defenceless  bon* 
dage  could  destroy  the  effects  of  that  peace-speaking 
voice,  which  sustained  me  with  its  consolation,  as  it  reit- 
erated—  'Fear  thou  not,  I  am  with  thee,  be  not  dis- 
mayed,  I  am  thy  God,  I  will  strengthen  thee,  I  will' 
help  thee ;  yea,  I  will  uphold  thee  with  the  right 
hand  of  my  righteousness.  In  one  of  my  most  dis- 
tressing and  dangerous  and  frightful  dilemmas,  wh© 
can  describe  the  effect  produced  upon  my  feelings  by 
the  Holy  Ghost's  kind  application  of  those  words  to 
my  heart — '  I,  even  I  am  he,  that  comforteth  you, 
Who  art  thou,  that  thou  shouldest  be  afraid  of  a  man 
that  shall  die,  and  of  the  son  of  man  who  shall  be  made 
as  grass ;  and  forgettest  the  Lord  thy  Maker ;  and 
hast  feared  continually  every  day  because  of  the  fury 

17 


198    ' 

of  the  oppressor,  as  if  he  were  ready  to  destroy,  and 
where  is  the  fury  of  the  oppressor  ?" 

The  protracted  seclusion  in  our  apartments  during 
the  long  winter  was  unfavorable  to  us,  and  our  conse- 
quent debility  was  too  evident  even  to  ourselves.  It 
was  the  natural  result  of  the  inactivity  and  tedium  in- 
separable from  the  convent.  The  most  pernicious 
effect  was  the  additional  nervous  derangement  which 
we  both  felt,  and  which  nothing  but  air  and  exercise  iu 
the  garden  had  truly  mitigated.  On  one  occasion, 
when  our  minds  were  more  than  ordinarily  affected  by 
our  peculiar  situation,  I  read  to  Therese  a  number  of 
the  most  expository  scriptures  respecting  the  world  to 
come  T  bad  announced  the  exhileraiing  truth — "Our 
light  affliction  which  is  but  for  a  moment,  worketh  for 
us  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glor}^ 
while  we  look  not  at  the  things  which  are  seen,  but  at 
the  things  which  are  not  seen  ;  for  the  things  which  are 
seen  are  temporal,  but  the  things  -which  are  not  ^een 
arc  eternal ;  for  we  know  that  if  our  earthly  house  of 
this  tabernacle  were  dissolved,  we  have  a  building  of 
God,  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens, '  She  interrupted  my  progress.  "  These 
subjects  have  strangely  affected  my  mind  lately — re= 
marked  Therese — I  feel  very  different  from  what  1  used 
to  do  when  thinkmgofdeathand  futurity."  1  anxiously 
inquired — u  How  is  the  alteration  perceptible  V — The- 
rese replied — "  I  cannot  accurately  describe  it ;  but  I 
do  not  experience  the  same  terror  at  the  contemplation 
of  leaving  the  world  as  formerly."     I  earnestly  request 


199 

sd — "Describe  this  change  to  me."  Therese  answer- 
ad — "  My  feelings  assure  me  that  1  am  rapidly  declin- 
ing ;  cannot  you  perceive  it  V  My  own  convictions  of 
increasing  weakness  only  enabled  me  to  reply — "  Not 
much  ;  and  I  suppose  the  reasons  are,  that  I  am  always 
with  you,  and  myself  gradually  becoming  more  feeble.'' 
Therese  continued — "  My  apprehensions  have  induced 
me  to  examine  myself  by  the  Scriptures  ;  and  like 
Manasseh,  1  have  often  prayed,  that  I  might  c  know 
that  the  Lord  he  is  God;'  and  like  the  dying  thief,  1  have 
cried,  'Lord,  remember  me  !"  She  paused.  "  You  fill 
me  with  comfort — 1  said — at  this  blessed  experience  of 
Divine  mercy;  and  have  you  then  tasted  that  the  Lord 
is  gracious'  V  Our  mother  replied — "I  cannot  say  ex- 
actly how  I  feel,  but  my  spirits  are  lightened  and  my 
dreadfully  distressing  fears  are  removed.  I  see  in  the 
Divine  dealings  towards  me,  abounding  mercy.  Ire- 
trace  my  evil  thoughts,  words  and  actions,  and  I  abom- 
inate them  :  but.  I  am  not  troubled  as  formerly  with 
the  sting  of  them  ;  and  I  trust  that  the  Lord  has  for- 
given the  iniquity  of  my  sin."  I  was  too  affected  to 
speak.  Therese  saw  my  emotion — "  What  do  I  not 
owe  to  you.  Louise — she  subjoined — as  the  instrument 
in  God's  hands  to  convert  a  sinner  from  the  error  of 
her  way  ;  and  I  hope  you  have  saved  a  soul  from 
death  ?  I  cannot  speak  with  your  composure  and  cer- 
tainty ;  but  I  can  say  with  sincerity — 'Lord,  what  wait 
I  for,  my  hope  is  in  thee  V'  She  paused  as  if  wait- 
ing to  hear  me.  I  could  not  command  energ}-  to 
utter  a  word.  At  length,  she  added — "  I  think  I  can 
tell  something  of  your  gladness,  when  you   can  fee! 


200 

ahat  you  are  so  repaid  by  God  for  your  mother's  unna- 
tural barbarity."  This  reference  changed  my  feelings; 
and  in  broken  sentences,  I  replied — "  Say  nothing 
upon  that  subject.  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  forgave 
Jt  from  our  first  interview  here.  Diganu  will  forget  it, 
when  he  hears  my  (ale.  God,  I  trust,  has  compassion- 
ated you,  and  subdued  your  iniquities,  and  cast  all 
your  sins  into  the  depths  of  the  sea.  Let  us  not  there- 
fore raise  up  what  God  has  buried.  If  I  have  been  of 
any  service  to  you,  bless  God  for  his  wonderful  loving 
kindness,  who  makes  all  things  work  together  for  good 
to  them  that  love  him." 

That  evening  for  the  first  time,  Therese  prayed 
aloud  ;  and  until  she  was  finally  disabled,  our  joint 
devotions  were  alternately  assumed  by  us.  It  was 
an  encouraging  thought  that  a  woman  so  degenerate 
should  be  elevated  by  the  Gospel ;  that  a  dreaded  per- 
secutor should  be  transformed  into  a  Christian  disciple; 
that  a  loathsome  tempter  should  be  changed  into  an  en- 
deared friend  :  and  that  the  relation  of  mother  and 
daughter  should  be  recognized  by  us.  It  was  the  tri- 
umph of  good  over  evil,  of  light  over  darkness,  and  of 
love  over  aversion,  which  Christianity  alone  can 
achieve.  From  that  period  she  evidently  grew  in 
grace  and  in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour, 
Jesus  Christ.  But  she  had  no  lofty  soarings  ;  her 
mind  was  fastened  to  the  anchor  of  hope,  but  she  made 
no  higher  attainment.  She  never  spake  of  herself  but 
with  profound  humility.  Of  her  past  life  she  avowed 
her  disgust ;  of  her  actual  experience,  her  apprehension? 


201 

were  only  without  alarm  and  terrifying  disquietude ; 
but  of  the  future,  it  was  merely  the  resolution  of  Job  ; 
*  though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him  ;'  and  of 
Esther — '  I  will  go  in  unto  the  king,  and  if  I  perish  i 
I  perish." 

The  day,  my  dear,  Diganu,  on  which  we  had  finally 
been  separated  at  Lorette,  was  always  to  me  a  period 
of  peculiar  solemnity,  meditation  and  prayer.  As  I  be- 
came more  familiar  with  Therese,  I  resolved  to  remind 
her  of  the  tenth  return  of  the  season,  and  if  possible, 
mutually  to  be  edified  by  the  remembrance.  Her  an- 
ticipation was  not  less  acute  than  my  own,  and  she  re- 
solved to  surprise  me.  It  was  a  lovely  morning, and  our 
spirits  were  in  unison  with  the  cheerfulness  of  Spring. 
In  her  prayer,  she  impressively  noticed  it.  With  all 
solicitude  she  invoked  pardon  for  the  evil  doings  of  that 
day  and  for  the  Jesuit  criminal  instigator ;  and  for 
you  and  your  Louise  her  supplications  were  large  and 
fervent.  These  were  mingled  with  thanksgivings  for 
Divine  mercy  in  her  latter  experience  ;  and  an  unre- 
served surrender  of  herself  to  the  Lord's  will ;  also 
imploring  that  she  might  be  able  to  read  her  name  in 
the  book  of  life,  and  be  prepared  to  meet  her  God.  As 
she  had  thus  adverted  to  the  subject,  I  made  no  re- 
mark. In  the  afternoon,  Therese  proposed  a  walk  in 
the  garden.  It  was  the  first  time  that  she  had  been 
out  of  the  house  during  nearly  five  months.  Every 
thing  on  that  occasion  seemed  changed.  Therese's 
kindness  ;  the  conviction  of  her  maternal  relationship, 
send  of  her  Christian  character ;  and  the  consolation? 


202 

of  redeeming  mercy,  of  which  we  both  hoped  that  we 
participated, cheered  our  minds;  and  we  were  invigora- 
ted by  our  little  exercise.  On  our  return  into  her 
room  our  Mother  remarked — "  I  have  one  duty  yet  to 
perform  to  you,  Louise,  for  the  sake  of  Diganu  ;  and  as 
f  feel  benefited  by  our  little  walk,  as  the  time  is  con- 
genial, and  as  the  future  isso  very  mutable  and  uncer- 
tain, I  have  been  revolving  the  propriety  of  communi- 
cating to  you  some  of  the  history  of  my  life  this  eve- 
ning. I  think  I  am  more  capable  of  doing  it  now, 
than  at  any  previous  time,  since  we  have  resided  to- 
gether. My  daughter,  my  child — it  was  the  first  time 
she  had  ever  used  the  words,  and  as  she  kissed  me, 
she  added — are  you  willing  to  hear  it  'V  I  could  only 
return  her  salutation  and  reply  ;  the  endearing  epithet 
had  never  before  escaped  me — "  1  hnd  thought,  moth- 
er !—0  Diganu,  that  you  had  been  with  us! — to  have 
surprised  you  by  a  reference  to  this  day ;  but  from  your 
morning's  prayer  I  discovered  that  you  also  recollect 
the  eventful  season." — Therese  answered — "  Ah  !  it 
is  impossible,  Louise,  to  conceive  what  pungency  of  an= 
guish  I  have  suffered  for  the  guilt  of  this  never  to  be 
forgotten  day  ;  and  it  is  the  remarkable  change  that  I 
now  feel,  which  induced  me  to  make  the  proposition." 
Upon  that  remark  I  observed — "1  have  longed  for 
your  recital  and  dreaded  it,  with  very  conflicting  emo- 
tions ;  now,  I  am  very  anxious  to  know  the  events  of 
Your  earthly  pilgrimage." 


HISTORY  OF  THERESE 


Night  is  the  time  of  death ; 

When  all  around  is  p*  ace, 

Calmly  to  yield  the  weary  breath, 

From  sin  and  suffering  cease  — 
Think  of  heaven's  bliss,  and  give  the  sign 
To  parting  friends  ; — such  death  be  mine  !— 

Therese  thus  narrated  her  biography. — Father  or 
mother  I  never  knew  ;  nor  am  I  aware  of  any  indivi^ 
dual's  peculiar  kindness  towards  me.  My  earliest  re- 
collections are  concerning  an  elderly  woman  who  stated 
to  me  this  circumstance.  '  I  was  frequently  employ- 
ed about  the  Ursuline  Nunnery  of  Quebec,  in  menial 
offices — said  Josephine — and  on  one  occasion  a  childf 
which  appeared  to  be  about  four  days  old  was  deposit- 
ed in  the  usual  box  at  the  entrance.  I  desired  to  adopt 
it,  to  which  the  Nuns  consented  ;  and  you,  Therese, 
are  my  nurseling.  That  name  was  pinned  to  your 
bosom.  This  is  all  that  I  know  of  your  origin.'  That 
woman  I  always  addressed  by  the  title  of  mother.  Her 
appearance  was  repulsive.  She  was  short  and  meagre, 
with  a  peculiarly  disagreeable  countenance ;  but  she 
was  always  very  affectionate  and  kind  to  me,  and  I 
have  often  regretted  that  I  was  taken  from  her.  I  went 
to  the  school  and  made  some  progress  in  learningc 
The  Nuns  would  have  me  to  reside  with  them  ;  and 


204 

Josephine  was  obliged  to  consent.  I  well  remember 
her  charging  me  never  to  become  a  Nun.  At  the  con- 
7ent  I  often  saw  her,  and  was  permitted  to  visit  hex 
at  her  own  room.  She  always  repeated  her  injunctionj 
that  when  I  became  my  own  mistress,  I  ought  not  to 
live  in  a  Nunnery.  I  still  have  a  very  distinct  impres 
sion  of  attending  her  when  sick.  Not  long  before  her 
death,  she  communicated  the  manner  in  which  I  had 
come  under  her  care  ;  informed  me  that  I  was  fourteen 
years  of  age  ;  that  i  had  no  earthly  relative  whom 
she  could  ascertain  ;  and  repeated  her  strict  command, 
that  I  should  leave  the  Convent  as  soon  as  I  could.  I 
was  present  at  the  funeral  of  my  only  benefactress. 

A  strict  guard  was  kept  over  me,  no  doubt  by  the 
contrivance  of  the  Nun  who  was  my  mother,  and  who 
resided  in  the  Convent ;  btit  which  of  them  had  borne 
me  I  never  could  suspect ;  because  that  fact  I  only 
ascertained,  in  consequence  of  Diganu's  threatened 
judicial  investigation.  However,  I  soon  perceived,  that 
they  designed  to  entangle  me  to  take  the  vow.  My 
mind  was  resolutely  opposed  to  the  measure ;  for  my 
dispositions  were  totally  uncongenial  with  the  manners 
of  the  Convent;  and  I  secretly  del  ermined  to  resist  every 
scheme  to  force  my  assent.  My  aversion  doubtless  was 
discovered  ;  either  by  their  unacountable  craftiness,  or 
more  probably  by  some  of  my  acknowledgments  at 
confession.  I  was  therefore  placed  in  Montreal  about 
a  year  after  the  death  of  Josephine.  There  I  first  at- 
fracted  the  notice  of  Diganu's  father.  Between  the 
fcesbytere  and  the  Nunneries,  was  an  underground 


205 

and  thus  the  selected  girls  were 
made  eye  witnesses  of  the  familiarities  between  the 
Jesuit  Priests  and  the  Nun&;  until  they  were  duly 
trained  to  join  the  vile  association. 

Having  been  initiated  into  their  customs  at  Montreal, 
I  was  transferred 'to  Three  Rivers,  by  the  direction  of 
the  Priest  who  had  chosen  me  for  his  prey.  There  a 
similar  passage  existed  between  the  Jesuit  Monas- 
tery and  the  Convent ;  and  every  artifice  was  en* 
acted  to  corrupt  my  principles.  The  object  was  not  at- 
tained ;  but  it  was  doubtless  perceived  thai  I  had  been 
infected  by  the  contagion  ;  and  1  was  then  removed  to 
ihe  General  Hospital  of  Quebec.  That  Institution  had 
obtained  a  highly  dishonorable  character,  even  from 
those  who  knew  nothing  of  Christian  morals.  The  Re- 
ligieuses  mixed  with  promiscuous  society  and  openly 
formed  tender  attachments.  The  Jesuits  consequently, 
were  in  a  fury.  The  Priests  disliked  that  the  military 
officers  and  others  should  intrude  into  their  domain  ; 
and  they  dreaded  that  the  Nuns  should  divulge  to 
their  paramours  the  secret  proceedings  of  the  Jesuits 
in  the  Convents.  It  is  most  probable,  from  notori- 
ous facts,  that  some  of  the  Nuns  did  publish  those 
circumstances  hich  afterwards  disgraced  that  pesti* 
lential  order.  Exterior  decorum  among  the  Nuns  was 
eventually  coerced  by  the  government  ;  but  the  interior 
continued  to  be  a  scene  of  flagrant  depravity.  There 
I  drank  of  the  intoxicating  cup  ;  and  the  familiarities 
of  the  Priest  who  often  visited  me,  although  gilded  over 
by  the  name  of  fatherly  tenderness  to  a  spiritual  child 


206 

whom  he  hud  long  watched,  aided  his  design ;  and  wheil 
he  deemed  proper,  I  was  appointed  to  reside  at  Point 
aux  Trembles.  That  was  the  period  of  my  intercourse 
with  Marguerite.  The  Jesuit  often  talked  with  me  re 
specting  my  future  views,  pretended  to  illustiate  my 
childish  opinions,  discovered  all  my  contemptible  su 
perstitious  folly ;  encouraged  all  the  notions  which  I  had 
imbibed  of  priestly  infallibility,  shewed  the  importance 
of  an  unreserved  exposure  of  all  my  thoughts,  feelings, 
and  desires  to  him,  with  pretended  modest  gravity 
propounded  the  most  obscene  and  revolting  questions; 
and  under  the  pretence  of  cautioning  me  against  sin, 
taught  me  the  most  loathsome  sensuality,  and  unfolded 
the  very  inmost  recesses  of  all  ungodliness,  until  hav 
ing  moulded  me  in  unprincipled  views  and  feelings  to 
>**. h  \  his  design,  he  completed  it  in  the  confession  a  1.  I  was 
then  totally  in  his  power,  and  was  removed  to  his 
parish,  where  Diganti  was  born.  He  was  taken  from 
me  almost  immediately,  and  1  saw  him  no  more  until 
he  was  sent  to  be  instructed  with  Chretien  at  Quebec. 

For  some  cause  unknown  to  me,  the  Priest  left  his 
parish  for  several  weeks,  and  during  his  absence,  anoth- 
er Jesuit  said  Mass  for  him.  He  visited  me,  and  you, 
Louise,  are  his  daughter.  Thus  debased,  and  by  the 
instructions  of  those  two  Priests,  lost  to  all  correct  fe= 
male  sensibility  and  moral  decorum,  I  became  exactlj' 
what  they  wished.  Afterwards  they  forced  me,  under 
the  pretext  of  secrecy,  to  take  the  veil ;  and  the  years  re- 
volved amid  my  increasing  love  and  practice  of  iniquity, 
3  possessed  not  the  smallest  particle  of  affection  for  you ; 


207 


"jX  rather  yoa  were  my  aversion ;  for  it  was  in  conse- 
quence of  your  birth,  that  I  had  been  coerced  to  adopt 
the  monastic  lite.     Diganu  I  cared  tor,  because  he  was 
a  child  in  some  degree  of  affection,  for  his  father  had 
attracted  my   fondness  ;  but  for  your  father,  I  never 
felt  the  least  attachment,  or  respect;   and  my  comfort^ 
equally  with  his  safety,  was  in  danger  from  the  two 
Jesuits.     I  thought  that  they  never  would  be  pacified, 
until  they  had  murdered  both  of  you.     It  was  finally 
agreed,  that. Diganu  should  be  under  your  father's  in- 
spection.  and  that  you  should  be  controled,  by  the  other 
Priest.     All   your  sufferings  have  been  the  result  of 
this  mischievous  compact.    I  always  wished  to  befriend 
your  brother ;  and  his  father  consented,  provided  that 
he  might  have  the  sway  over  you.     Had  I  known  the 
feelings  of  a  woman,  much  more  the  tenderness  of  a 
mother,  I  should  have  opposed  that  monster  of  iniquity  ; 
but  all  within  me  was  blunted  or  perverted,  and  1  rea= 
lized  no  more  concern  at  sacrificing  my  child  than  any 
other  girl ;  or  rather,  I  was  taught  that  Diganu's  pros- 
perity-depended upon  it,  and  the  base  agreement  was 
made."     "  I  here  interposed — remarked  Louise,  and 
asked — was  my  father  privy  to  this  extraordinary  de- 
sign?"    Therese  answered — "  No,  he  never  saw  you, 
after  you  were  removed  from  me,  when  a  few  days  old, 
until  he  recognized  the  cross  in  the  Church  at  Lorette, 
Indeed,  he  never  displayed  the  smallest  concern  about 
you.     He  complied  with  his  engagement  respecting 
Diganut  merely  as  a  matter  of  honor  between  Priests ; 
but  he  wc\s  not  in  the  least  interested  in  your  or  my 
welfare. 


208 

After  you  approached  to  maturity,  the  plan  was  laid 
for  your  entanglement.  I  was  early  apprised  that  you 
manifested  a  rather  intractable  and  modest  temper,  and 
that  you  would  not  easily  be  enticed  by  any  artifices  to 
submit  to  the  course  delineated  for  you.  The  plot 
therefore  was  contrived  gradually  to  entrap  you  into 
his  snare.  I  was  also  told,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
attract  your  notice  to  the  usual  occurrences  of  the  Con= 
vent.  By  my  base  advice,  you  were  sent  to  Point  aux 
Trembles  ;  but  it  was  a  providential  journey,  because 
there  you  saw  Marguerite,  and  God  in  mercy  permitted 
you,  through  her  instrumentality,  to  acquire  that  know- 
ledge and  inflexibility  which  enabled  you  to  overcome 
all  the  Priest's  machinations."  Here  I  interrupted  The- 
rese  by  remaking — "I  cannot  conceive,  Therese,  how 
you  could  possibly  have  engaged  in  that  most  iniqui- 
tous project.  There  is  something  so  unnatural  and  so 
attrocious.that  I  am  amazed  when  the  Jesuit  propound, 
sd  that  wickedness  to  you,  your  feelings  as  a  woman 
did  not  revolt  from  the  proposal  to  prostitute  your  vir- 
gin daughter  to  the  father  of  your  son  ?"  She  displayed 
unutterable  emotion  as  she  replied — "  Ah  !  Louise,  you 
understand  not  the  wickedness  of  Jesuit  seminaries 
and  Convents.  By  their  regulations, all  earthly  relation- 
ships terminate  when  the  boy  receives  the  tonsure,  or 
the  girl  takes  the  veil.  Father  and  mother,  brother 
and  sister,  even  son  and  daughter  to  them  are  un- 
meaning appellatives,  and  all  mankind  are  equally 
alienated.  Hence,  parricide  and  incest,  in  their  judg- 
ment, are  crimes  which  they  cannot  commit.  A  Pre- 
*xe  and  a  Religieuse  are  equally  destitute  of  all  natural 


209 

sensibility.  Most  of  them  like  myself  have  never  felt 
the  ordinary  experience  of  domestic  affection.  They 
are  the  offspring  of  profligacy  ;  and  by  their  unknown 
licentious  parents,  abandoned  in  infancy  to  the  care  of 
others,  and  only  watched  that  they  may  be  nurtur- 
ed to  think  and  feel  and  act  like  the  Priests  and  Nuns 
from  whom  they  derived  their  existence.  What  love 
can  a  woman  have  for  a  child  who  is  taken  from  her 
probably  without  her  handling,  or  even  beholding  it; 
whom  she  never  nursed,  and  whose  sex  she  is  not  per- 
mitted to  know;  and  in  multitudes  of  instances  whether 
allowed  to  live  or  suffocated  at  its  birth,  she  can  never 
ascertain?  What  affection  can  a  Priest  have  for  a  child, 
if  the  relationship  were  ascertained,  who  must  be  his 
disgrace  and  ruin  ?  It  is  certain  that  the  Jesuits  not 
only  kill  their  children  to  hide  their  corruption,  but  also 
the  mothers  of  their  offspring,  rather  than  their  pre- 
tended celibacy  shall  be  discredited.  What  civil  law 
can  punish  a  Priest  and  Nun  thus  guilty?  They  purloin 
and  destroy  every  Bible  with  impunity.  They  rob 
their  poor  disciples  under  every  possible  pretext.  They 
teach,  disseminate  and  practice  all  kinds  of  the  vilest. 
immorality,  and  who  dare  to  resist  them  ?" 

<;  1 1  ,e  often  thought  to  ask  you,  Therese — I  re 
marked — what  account  can  be  given  of  all  the  infants 
who  are  left  in  the  cradles  at  the  Nunneries?  I  have 
frequently  regretted,  that  Marguerite  did  not  assist  me 
with  her  knowledge  on  this  subject.*'  Therese  replied 
— "  That  is  a  very  mysterious  concern.  How  that  busi 
ness  is  managed3  I  never  could  exactly  discover.     The 

18 


210 

aumber  of  children  thus  cast  off  by  their  unnatural  pa^ 
rents  is  astonishing ;  yet  no  inquiry  is  ever  made  for 
them,  after  they  have  been  placed  in  a  convent.  That 
affair  can  only  be  understood  by  the  Nun  in  atten- 
dance, and  the  Superieure  and  the  Chaplain.  I  was 
never  intrusted  with  the  office  of  door-keeper.  All  I 
know  is,  that  many  more  are  deposited  than  ever  go 
out ;  but  how  the  account  is  balanced,  it  is  beyond 
xnyn  ingenuity  to  unravel."  I  replied — "  During  my 
abode  in  one  of  the  Convents,  I  am  convinced,  that  one 
hundred  children  were  stated  to  have  been  left  within 
the  year  to  the  care  of  the  Religieuses  ;  although  I 
never  saw  one  of  them."  Therese  answered — "  It  is 
now  a  wonder  to  me;  but  then  I  thought  nothing  of  it. 
The  shocking  subject  only  constituted  matter  for  a 
joke  among  the  Nuns;  yet  with  all  their  impudence,  the 
Pretres  would  never  intrust  us  with  the  knowledge  of 
dur  children's  fate  ;  had  it  not  been  divulged  in  con- 
sequence of  your  birth,  I  should  have  remained  totally 
ignorant  of  Diganu."  I  inquired — "  Do  describe  to 
me  the  character  of  those  two  Priests  as  3^011  now  judge 
them  ?  Are  they  living  ?"  Our  mother  answered — 
-'  Your  Father,  Louise — her  countenance,  of  which 
she  was  probably  not  conscious,  bespoke  strong  aver^ 
sion — was  a  cold-hearted,  selfish  villain,  and  an  adept 
in  all  wickedness.  He  regularly  mumbled  over  his 
masses,  exacted  his  various  fees  and  claims,  indulged 
his  unholy  appetites  as  he  pleased,  and  possessed  not 
the  smallest  attachment  to  any  thing  in  creation,  ex- 
cept the  eraft  by  which  he  had  his  gain.  As  he  lived 
xmbeloved,  so  he  died  near  two  years  ago  unlamented.'5 


211 

I  hastily  observed — "  Dead  !  do  you  say  ?  dead  in  his 
sins  ?"  Therese  continued — "  He  passed  through  ail 
the  forms  and  ceremonies,  was  absolved,  anointed, 
chanted  over,  eulogized  in  the  funeral  oration,  prais- 
ed in  the  newspaper,  has  a  fine  epitaph  inscribed  on 
his  tombstone,  and  a  monument  in  the  church  ;  and 
is  gone  to  his  fathers,  just  as  they  preceded  him,  and 
as  the  surviving  ungodly  Priests  are  successively  follow- 
ing him."    I  briefly  inquired — "  And  Diganu's  father  ?" 

"  He  is  alive — said  your  Mother— a  shrewd  artful 
and  complete  Jesuit;  with  all  the  principles  of  a  re- 
morseless, impenitent  sinner,  and  with  a  deceitfuiness 
which  no  ingenuity  can  explore  or  circumvent.  His 
progress  has  constantly  been  onward  to  condemnation. 
The  only  thing  which  has  any  appearance  of  good 
that  he  ever  performed  has  been  his  support  of  Diganu ; 
but  that  was  merely  to  gratify  bis  stronger  passion. 
His  private  history  would  unfold  a  wondrous  tale.  I 
have  not  seen  him  during  the  last  three  years.  When 
I  began  to  realize  debility,  I  was  deserted  ;  and  as  my 
eyes  were  opened  to  perceive  the  evil  of  their  doings, 
I  loathed  the  very  sight  of  all  the  Pretres.  This  tem- 
per produced  disputation.  They  denounced  me  as  a 
heretic,  and  discarded  me  ;  but  as  the  Jesuit  then 
divulged  his  opinions  and  doings,  he  appeared  to  me  a 
most  irreligious  and  hardened  transgressor.  The 
misery  which  he  has  entailed  upon  his  female  victims 
to  him  was  an  object  of  ridicule,  and  as  to  his  child- 
ren, with  the  exception  of  Diganu,  no  person  can  give 
any  account  of  them.     In  his  first  rage,  after  the  law- 


212 

suits  were  directed  to  be  commenced,  I  dreaded  from 
bis  menaces,  that  Diganu  and  Chretien  would  both 
have  been  sacrificed  !"  I  remarked — "  It  was  always 
a  subject  of  interest  to  us  which  we  could  nevei 
unfold,  how  the  discovery  was  made  that  1  was  resi- 
ding with  Diganu." 

"  I  will  explain  that  circumstance — replied  Therese, 
On  the  night  after  your  escape,  one  of  the  Priest's  pa 
rishioners  arrived  in  the  city,  and  informed  him  of  the 
fire.  He  instantly  acquainted  me  with  the  vexatious 
occurrence.  For  the  injury  to  his  furniture  and  books 
he  cared  not;  his  anxiety  was  concerning  your  secu- 
rity :  respecting  which  he  dared  not  to  inquire.  On 
the  next  morning  he  hurried  to  his  residence,  and  col- 
lected all  the  information  which  he  could  obtain  ;  but 
he  could  discover  no  trace  either  of  you  or  ot  his  mo- 
ney. He  did  not  suppose  that  you  had  taken  it.  Af- 
ter along  and  fruitless  research,  it  was  concluded,  that 
the  fire  had  originated  in  Guise's  imprudence ;  that 
you  had  escaped  unobserved  in  the  confusion  ;  and 
that  some  persons  had  obtained  possesion  of  the  gold 
and  silver,  who  carefully  secreted  the  treasure"  I 
again  asked — ';  I  )id  the  Pretre  continue  his  inquiries, 
and  thus  make  the  discovery  ?  or  by  what  means  was 
my  actual  existence  and  place  of  abode  at  last  ascertain- 
ed ?"  Therese  tremulously  answered — "I  always  endea- 
vored to  persuade  him  that  you  were  dead  ;  and  to  my 
shame,  with  regret  I  confess,  that  I  delighted  in  the 
thought  that  you  had  perished.  I  argued  that  it  was 
Utterly  impossible  you  could  survive  exposure  in  the 


213 

Bight  in  the  open  air,  and  that  it  was  most  probable 
you  had  been  drowned,  as  you  could  not  know  any 
route  from  that  parish.     He  resisted  those  ideas,  and 
maintained  that  you  were  too  squeamish  to  die  of  your 
own  accord  :    nevertheless,  he  was  perplexed.     Guise 
declared,  that  as  soon  as  they  saw  the  fire,  the  people  at 
the  dance  started  with  all  rapidity ;  that  when  she 
at  rived,  the  flames  had  made  but  little  progress;  that 
the  persons   who  broke  open  the  doors  of  the  house 
mentioned  nothing,  except  that  the  fire  seemed  to  have 
begun  with  the  stove   pipe,  and  that  she  tried  to  find 
Louise  in  vain.     Every  investigation  was  made,  but 
no  information  was  elicited  ;  and  the  men  were  unani- 
mous, that  all  the  doors  were  forcibly  entered,  and  that 
except  the  fire,  every  thing  in  the  house  was  just  as  if 
the  Pretre  had  been  at  home.     For  once  the  Jesuit  was 
baffled,  and  might  have  continued  so  until  the  end,  had 
he  not  practised  one  of  his  wiles.     He  engaged  all  the 
Priests  to  make  his  money  the  subject  of  search  at  con- 
fession ;  and  finally  authorized  them  to  offer  the  full 
possession  of  the  whole  property  taken  from  him,  and 
a  perfect  release  from  the  civil  law,  with  the  absolution 
©f  the  Church,  to  all  persons  who  would  give  any  in- 
formation  respecting   the   origin   of    the   fire.      Had 
Diganu  or  Chretien  associated  with  the  Priests,  or  gone 
to  confession  as  before,  they  would  have  heard  of  it ; 
although  neither  of  them  were  suspected  as  being  ac- 
quainted with  any  of  the  circumstances  ;  for  the  Pretre 
had  seen  Diganu  on  the  morning  of  the  day  when 
they  rescued  you.     Several  months  had  elapsed  after 
ihc  Jesuit's  crafty  contrivance  was  put  in  operation* 
i8# 


214 

when  he  visited  me,  and  stated,  that  he  had  received  at* 
anonymous  account  of  Louise's  flight.  '  Is  she  alive  or 
dead?'  was  my  inquiry.  '  1  cannot  tell — he  answered — 
read  this  letter  :  I  will  see  you  to-morrow,  then  we  will 
decide  what  shall  be  done.  The  hand-writing  was 
obviously  disguised  ;  although  I  am  now  convinced, 
that  the  letter  was  sent  by  one  of  your  deliverers.  It 
was  doubtless  written  only  to  upbraid  and  tantalize  the 
Pretre."  I  hastily  asked  our  mother  this  question — 
"  Before  we  read  that  letter — for  she  had  safely  preser- 
ved it — do  tell  me,  Thereae  ;  were  you  my  companion 
to  the  Priest's  house,  as  well  as  to  Jacques  ("artier? 
for  I  could  never  satisfy  my  mind  upon  that  subject  V\ 
Therese  replied — "  O  !  horrible  recollection  :  yes  it  was 
I  who  thus  betrayed  my  own  innocent  lamb  to  that  ra- 
vening wolf/'  I  further  inquired — "  How  is  it  possi- 
ble you  could  so  disguise  yourself,  that  I  should  not  be 
able  to  recognize  either  your  personal  appearance  or 
your  voice  V*  With  the  deepest  emotion,  Therese  an- 
swered— "  Ah  !  my  dear  Louise  ;  you  know  nothing, 
and  well  it  is  that  you  are  ignorant  of  these  devices.  I 
shall  not  relate  a  Jesuit's  and  a  Nun's  tricks  :  but  every 
species  of  concealment  they  can  and  do  assume  to 
execute  their  mischievous  purposes.  When  I  have 
been  alone,  tortured  with  bodily  pain,  dismayed  with 
inexpressible  anguish,  arid  all  my  sins  have  stared  me 
in  the  face  in  their  aggravated  criminality,  my  two 
journies  with  you,  in  connection  with  the  dreadful  ca- 
tastrophe at  Lorette,  have  always  appeared  to  include 
the  utmost  barbarity  and  wickedness,  which  human 
depravity  can  possibly  combine.     Comfort   me  once 


215 

more,  Louise,  with  the  assurance  of  your  pardon  !sr 
She  paused  and  trembled.  "  I  have  already  often  as- 
sured you,  my  dear  mother — was  my  reply — that  I 
have  heartily  forgiven  all  your  offences  against  me  ; 
and  I  trust  that  the  God  of  mercy  has  also  blotted 
them  out  of  the  book  of  his  remembrance,  and  granted 
you  the  remission  of  sin.  Whatever  I  may  judge  of 
the  transgression,  and  of  your  instigator,  1  think,  from 
your  detail,  that  your  condition  at  that  period  was  not 
less  pitiable  than  odious."  She  pathetically  answer- 
ed— "  Blessed  be  God  !  that  I  can  now  venture  to  re- 
view those  terrific,  scenes  without  that  harrowing  tor- 
ment which  formerly  accompanied  the  remembrance  : 
and  although  I  abhor  myself  and  my  ways,  yet  I  can 
exercise  an  humble  trust  in  the  efficacy  of  the  Redeem- 
er's pardoning  grace,  and  I  can  feebly  hope  that  I 
have  experienced  the  application  of  the  blood  of  Christ 
which  cleanseth  from  ail  sin  "  I  subjoined — "1  am  con- 
vinced that  it.  is  this  confidence  on  your  behalf  which 
has  enabled  me  to  hear  your  narrative  with  so  little 
perturbation  ;  that  it  is  not  only  exemption  from  dan- 
ger and  gratitude  for  deliverance,  but  also  the  consola- 
tion of  believing  that  your  transgression  is  forgiven^ 
and  that  your  sin  is  covered.  So  that,  however  repul 
sive  it  is  to  survey  past  deformity,  the  sting  of  sin  is 
extracted  ;  and  additional  penitence,  humility,  faith 
and  devotion  are  enkindled  by  the  painful  contempla- 
tions." The  weeping  Therese  replied — "I  think  I  have 
found  this  effect  latterly  produced  in  my  own  mind. 
On  former  occasions,  when  I  meditated  upon  the  course 
^hich  I  have  pursued,  I  was  overwhelmed  with  agony } 


216 

but  it  was  not  united  with  melting.  My  feelings  were 
the  dislike  and  unsubdued  will  of  the  guilty  delinquent, 
not  the  tender- hearted  and  sorrowful  aversion  of  the 
repenting  sinner.  I  was  humbled  for  my  wretched- 
ness, not  for  my  transgressions.  I  believed,  but  it  was 
the  agonizing  convictions  of  coerced  alarm,  not  the 
lowly  apprehensions  of  a  filial  trust ;  and  1  cried,  but 
it  was  a  desire  to  escape  from  present,  pain  and  anticipa- 
ted wo ;  not  the  prayer  for  wisdom,  holiness,  resigna- 
tion, and  <  hnstian  peace."  I  answered— "  It  is  very 
consolatory  to  ire,  Therese,  to  witness  this  gracious 
transformation  in  your  feelings  and  views  of  yourself 
and  of  I  )ivine  truth."  Therese  tenderly  added — "  By 
the  Divine  blessing,  Louise,  I  owe  to  you  all  that  I 
savingly  ..now,  expe  .  -uce, and  hope;  and  can  only 
pray  that  you  may  be  abundantly  rewarded  for  your 
work  of  faith  and  labor  of  love,  according  to  the  Re- 
deemer's promise !"  My  reply  was — tk  Let  me  read  the 
letter.  I  am  anxious  to  understand  the  mysterious 
occurrence  which  ferreted  me  out  of  my  seclusion." 

To  Mr.  1),  Pretre. 

"You  are  taking  much  trouble  to  find  out  the  circum- 
stances connected  with  the  fire  in  your  house ;  and 
have  offered  that  the  money  which  you  say  was  lost 
in  your  house  may  be  retained  by  any  person  who  se- 
creted it,  provided  only  you  can  be  fully  informed  con- 
cerning that  event.  But  why  did  you  never  inquire 
after  the  girl  you  had  imprisoned  there  ?  Now  if  ever 
1  hear  of  any  more  search  being  made  after  the  cash,  I 
%ill  publish  the  story  about  Louise." 


21? 

"What  did  the  Priest  say  to  that  threat  ? — I  asked 
— did  he  manifest  no  uneasiness  at  the  proposed  dis- 
closure?" Therese  replied — "  Not  at  ail ;  the  Jesuit 
only  smiled  with  contempt.  '  Silly  fool  ! — said  the 
Pretre — his  tale  would  necessarily  unfold  the  robbery  ; 
and  as  he  would  be  hanged,  no  person  would  believe 
one  syllable  which  he  uttered.  Besides,  the  men  who 
first  opened  the  doors,  would  testify  that  no  person  was 
in  the  house,  and  Guise  will  swear  to  any  thing  which 
she  is  taught.'  But  1  answered — '  Suppose  more  than 
one  person  should  hav*  been  concerned  in  the  affair, 
how  will  that  affect  the  point  ?  The  Priest  remarked, 
'  They  dare  not  tell  the  story  for  their  own  sakes  ;  yet 
I  should  rejoice  to  discover  this  insolent  fellow.'  But 
goon."  I  continued  to  read  the  letter.  "  As  you  seem 
so  very  desirous  to  learn  something  of  the  matter  ;  I 
will  tell  you  what  I  have  heard  about  it,  sometime  ago, 
in  Montreal.  The  man  who  related  the  circumstance, 
mentioned  neither  time,  nor  names .  nor  place  ;  but 
from  the  questions  which  have  been  asked  by  the  Cure 
of  our  parish,  it  must  be  the  same  affair,  arid  well  may 
you  be  willing  to  give  up  the  hush  money.  All  that 
rejoices  me  is  that  the  good  girl  escaped  from  your 
brutal  clutches." 

A  smile  passed  over  my  countenance,  and  I  inquired 
of  Therese — "Howdid  the  Pretre  receive  thatsarcasm  ?" 
Our  mother  replied — "  He  swore  most  furiously  ;  and 
declared,  that  he  would  find  out  whether  you  were  dedd 
or  alive.  1  endeavored  in  vain  to  turn  away  his  atten- 
tion from  the  unholy  and  as  I  thought  fruitless  search. 


218 

But  Providence  in  a  most  mysterious   manner,  has  or- 
dered all  our  affairs  for  the  best." 

I  proceeded  in  my  perusal.  "  You  will  never  know 
who  were  the  chief  actors  in  that  affair ;  but  three 
young'  men  travelling  stopped  at  your  parish  church 
during  mass.  Your  journey  to  Quebec  was  talked  of; 
and  the  dai.ee  at  night.  It  was  also  mentioned  that 
an  old  jilt,  w  ho  was  left  in  charge  of  your  house  would 
be  at  the  frolic ;  and  as  the  Pretres  always  have  a  plenty 
of  money  in  their  possession.  The  travellers  arranged 
their  plan,  watched  the  woman's  departure,  and  them- 
selves at  a  Late  hour  left  the  habitant's  house  at  which 
the)  had  been  staving,  under  the  pretext  of  joining  the 
dance;  where,  however,  they  remained  but  a  short 
time.  At  three  o'clock  they  left  t he  frolic  unobserved. 
Having  entered  your  house,  they  were  frightened  at 
the  sight,  as  they  thought,  of  the  eld  woman,  whom 
they  had  left  at  the  dance  asleep  !  hut  they  instantly 
discovered  that  it  was  a  young  female  preparing  toes- 
cape  from  the  window.  She  made  known  her  wretch- 
ed situation  ;  and  so  to  spoil  such  a  coqum's  tricks,  the 
strangers  seized  your  money,  invited  Louise  to  accom- 
pany them,  set  fire  to  the  house,  gave  the  alarm,  and 
unperceived  by  any  person  drove  away,  amid  the  shouts 
and  uproar  of  the  party  hu  lying  from  the  dance. 
They  left  the  girl  the  next  evening,  and  can  never  hear 
of  her  since  :  so  that  you  have  Louise's  death  to  an- 
swer for ;  and  remember,  some  more  of  us  are  ready  to 
take  a  peep  into  your  upper  apartments,  and  look  at 
your  secret  proceedings." 


219 

M  How  did  the  Pretre  like  this  menace  ?"  I  asked, 
Therse  answered — "  He  was  so  intimidated,  that  for  a 
Fong  time  he  was  never  known  to  be  absent  at  nightj 
unless  he  could  engage  some  of  his  parishioners  to  re- 
main as  a  guard.'5  I  again  inquired — "  How  did  he 
act  upon  this  information  ?"  Therese  informed  me  in 
reply — "  Immediately  after  the  reception  of  this  letter, 
the  Jesuit  started  all  his  confreres  upon  the  scent,  for  they 
are  a  confederated  pack  ;  but  the  pursuit  was  unavail- 
ing. Every  hope  of  attaining  any  knowledge  of  you 
was  nearly  abandoned,  when  the  cure  of  Lorette  stated, 
that  he  had  heard  some  intelligence  of  a  strange  girl, 
who  was  sick  at  that  village,  about  the  very  time  of 
the  fiie.  The  stupid  squaws  however  had  either  forgot 
ten  or  could  give  no  precise  account  of  the  fact.  With 
great  difficulty,  the  Surgeon  was  finally  identified. 
By  a  large  bribe,  he  Was  induced  to  unite  in  the  search. 
When  it  was  ascertained  that  you  had  clandestinely  left 
your  lodgings,  I  desired  that  all  fan  her  inquiries  should 
terminate,  as  it.  would  only  involve  Diganu  and  Chretien 
in  perplexity."  I  asked — "  Why  was  your  opinion  not 
adopted?"  Therese  remarked — "  You  cannot  form  any 
idea  of  the  craftiness  and  pertinacity  of  a  Jesuit  Priest  in 
persevering  to  fulfil  that  which  he  has  once  undertake 
en.  The  Pretre  cursed  most  dreadfully,  and  declared 
that  nothing  should  satisfy  him  until  he  had  obtained 
Undeniable  evidence  of  your  death  ;  and  that  he  would 
obtain  possession  of  you  if  you  could  be  found  :  and  he 
remarked  with  an  expressive  tone  and  look,  'you  know, 
Therese,  we  cannot  be  deceived.'"  I  interposed — ':  That. 
reminds  me  of  a  query  which  I  have  often  wished   to 


220 

Snake  :  "  Why  was  the  cross  imprinted  upon  Diganu 
and  myself  ?"     Therese  answered — "Merely  to  iden- 
tify the  children  in  case  of  necessity,  provided  it  is  de- 
termined that  they  shall  live.     It  was  the  will  of  the 
two  Priests,  that  you   should  bear  a  cross    with  their 
initials,  in  an  oval,  which  they  said  was  the  first  letter 
of  my  name.     But   for  that  mark,   you  and  your 
brother  could  not  have  been  separated.     It  is   wonder- 
ful what  a  multiplicity  of  contrivances  the  Priests  and 
Nuns  adopt  to  recognize  their  unacknowledged  child- 
ren, if  they  are  spared  a  premature  death  in  infancy." 
I  replied — "  The  sight  of  Diganu's  cross  so  exactly 
similar  to  my  own   instantly   convinced  me  that  we 
should  not  be  married.     I  never  could  view  him  in  the 
relation  of  a  husband."     Therese  continued — "  Your 
separation    was   dreadful   but   necessary.      No   other 
mode   could    be   devised   without   divulging   to   your 
father  the  prior  circumstances  respecting  the  manner 
in  which  you  and   Diganu  had  become  acquainted, 
and  even  the  other  Pretre  did  not  possess  sufficient 
effrontery  for  the  confidential  exposure  of  that  peculiar 
iniquity."     I  added — "  We  could  have  been  mutually 
beneficial ;  and  Diganu  would  have  been  calmed  in  a 
moment  by  the  demonstration  of  the  fact,  that  we  are 
maternally  related."   Our  mother  remarked — "  True  ; 
but  my  dear  Louise  !  you  forget  that  the  Jesuit's  wick- 
ed design  upon  you  was  restored  in  full  vigor,  as  soon 
as  he  ascertained,  that  you  might  probably  be  recov- 
ered."    I  suddenly  ejaculated — "Thanks  be  to  God  ? 
my  soul  'escaped  as  a  bird  out  of  the  snare  of  the  fow- 
ler ;  because  the  Lord  was  on  my  side,  and  my   help 


221 

was  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  who  made  heaven   and 
sarth.'     But  proceed  with  your  narrative." 

Therese  thus  continued.  "  The  first  communicat- 
ion which  pleased  the  Priest,  was  the  Surgeon's  state* 
ment,  that  the  fern  ale  servant  whom  Diganu  kept  was 
never  seen  out  of  the  house.  From  this  fact,  the  wily 
Jesuit  observed  that  there  was  cause  for  more  minute 
inquiry.  The  Surgeon,  however,  and  the  woman  with 
whom  you  had  resided,  both  avowed  that  you  were  not 
the  girl  who  had  been  sick  at  Lorette."  I  remarked- — 
!'I  do  not  wonder  at  their  being  deceived  ;  for  I  always 
dressed  souncouthlythat  no  person  could  easily  havere- 
cognized  me."  Therese  continued — "  Diganu's  Father 
and  the  Surgeon  were  outwitted  at  their  interview  with 
the  young  men.  Their  immovable  firmness,  their  un» 
concern  at  the  Priest's  details,  and  their  imperturbable 
composure  when  his  parting  menace  was  pronounced, 
disconcerted  him,  and  the  Pretre's  ingenuity  was  com- 
pletely frustrated.  Every  thing  might  have  passed  un» 
heeded,  had  your  appointed  marriage  been  deferred,  or 
had  any  other  place  been  selected  for  the  ceremony. 
But  as  soon  as  the  Cure  of  Lorette  heard  Diganu's 
name  mentioned  as  the  bridegroom,  the  circumstance 
was  communicated  to  his  Father.  The  Jesuit,  without 
hesitation,  affirmed  that  the  choice  of  Lorette  for  the 
marriage  was  a  proof  of  some  peculiar  cause,  and  in- 
stantly avowed  his  conviction  that  you  were  the  pro- 
posed wife.  The  squaw  was  therefore  direcied  to  visit 
you  ;  and  although  rather  incoherent,  her  account  ren- 
dered immediate  measures  indispensable.     Your  Fa* 

19 


222 

ther  was  sent  for  to  meet  us  at  Lorette.  He  was  mere- 
ly informed  that  some  time  before  you  had  eloped  from 
our  care.  The  heresy  which  you  had  imbibed  from 
Marguerite  was  alleged  as  the  cause.  It  was  also 
stated,  that  you  had  been  traced  to  Diganu's  house,  and 
that  you  were  engaged  t  3  be  married  ;  that  a  separa- 
tion was  unavoidable ;  and  to  conceal  our  mutual 
secrets,  he  consented  to  the  plan  which  was  executed. 
Your  dress  betrayed  you  ;  for  the  Jesuit  and  Guise 
both  recognized  it  upon  your  entrance  into  the  church. 
Of  the  four  in  the  conveyance  in  which  you  were 
driven  to  the  General  Hospital,  your  Father  was  the 
most  callous.  He  swore,  that  it  would  be  preferable 
to  permit  your  marriage.  c:  They  are  not  related  at  all, 
according  to  the  law  of  the  church — he  said — neither  of 
them  can  have  any  Father  or  Mother,  because  a  Priest 
or  a  Nun  cannot  be  a  parent ;  and  at  all  events,  a 
dispensation  can  be  obtained  from  the  Bishop ;  and 
then  we  shall  be  no  more  plagued  with  them.  If  Louise 
will  not  be  a  Nun  and  do  like  her  mother,  let  her  live 
with  Diganu,  married  or  single  as  they  please."  His 
scheme  would  have  been  assented  to  at  first,  for  he 
proposed  it  before  we  meet  in  the  church,  had  not 
Diganu's  Father  resisted  the  proposition.  He  could  not 
brook  that  bitter  disappointment :  so  with  true  Jesuit 
grimace  he  descanted  upon  illegal  marriages  ;  and 
your  Father  feeling  neiiher  for  you  nor  Diganu  more 
than  he  did  for  his  brother  Priest  and  me,  agreed  to 
those  violent  measures  which  were  adopted/'  I  asked 
Therese — "  Can  yon  inform  me  why  1  was  released 
from  the  insane  apartment  and  transferee]  to  Mon- 
treal?" 


223 

u  The  interview  which  Diganu  and  Chretien  had 
with  the  Bishop — replied  Therese — perplexed  us; 
although  the  Cure  of  Lorette  had  stated  the  circum- 
stances to  him,  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  exonerate  the 
Priests,  and  to  criminate  your  brother  and  his  friends. 
Nevertheless,  the  Bishop  perceived  that  the  complai- 
nants were  out  intimidated  by  his  menaces.  He  saw 
in  them  a  cool  spirit  of  resolute  defiance  ;  and  as  the 
consequences  might  affect  the  priestcraft,  he  deemed  it 
necessary  more  minutely  to  examine  the  subject  The 
Cure  of  Lorette  was  ordered  to  attend  ;  and  in  recoun- 
ting the  threats  which  Rohoirsic  addressed  to  him ; 
the  Cure  expressed  his  fears,  from  the  number  of  wit- 
nesses who  were  present,  some  of  whom  were  unknown 
except  to  Diganu  and  Chretien  and  the  lawyer,  and 
therefore  could  not  be  secretly  removed,  that  a  judi- 
cial investigation  would  be  attended  with  serious  injury 
to  their  order ,  and  recommended  that  the  bishop 
should  interpose  his  authority,  so  as  to  quash  those  de 
nounced  proceedings  at  law7,  which  would  terminate  in 
the  conviction  and  disgrace  of  the  assailants  Mie 
two  Priests  w7ere  therefore  directed  to  meet  at  the 
Bishop's  palace  ;  and  at  first  he  highly  censured  them 
for  their  doings.  However  they  speedily  pacified  their 
superior's  pretended  wrath,  by  assuring  him  that  the 
Nun  who  was  concerned  was  his  own  daughter.  He 
immediately  visited  me  in  the  Convent,  and  having 
examined  me  for  the  mark  of  recognition — here  our 
Mother  shewed  me  the  sign  which  had  been  stamped 
by  his  order — the  Bishop  acknowledged  that  I  was  his 
child,     He  also  stated  that  my  Mother  had  been  Supe- 


224 

irieure  of  the  General  Hospital,  but  many  years  before 
had  died.  The  Jesuit  afterwards  told  me  that  he  had 
been  informed  of  my  relation  to  the  Bishop  by  the  Su« 
perieure  herself;  and  unknown  to  me,  had  been  as- 
sured  of  the  truth  of  her  statement,  through  having 
seen  the  mark  which  she  had  described.  This  deve- 
lopment changed  our  affairs,  as  it  placed  every  one  of 
the  parties  in  a  new  relation.  The  Bishop  directed 
that  the  storm  should  be  appeased  by  an  unqualified 
assent  to  all  the  lawyer's  propositions  ;  but  this  was 
not  done,  until  I  had  explained  the  subject  to  my 
Father  at  confession  ;  expressly  that  as  a  Priest,  under 
the  seal  of  that  secrecy  which  the  ceremony  imposes, 
he  might  know  all  the  complicated  events  connected 
With  you  and  your  brother.  He  accordingly  adapted 
his  measures  to  the  crisis  ;  and  being  pleased  with  the 
character  of  Diganu  and  Chretien,  he  commanded 
that  every  requisition  which  Rohoirsic  made  to  pacify 
the  young  men  who  had  so  uobly  acted  should  be 
complied  with,  if  they  did  not  unfold  the  connection 
between  the  Priests  and  Nuns.  The  conditions  in  re* 
spect  to  yourselt  were  the  I  awyer's  spontaneous  de= 
mand — but  that  Rohoirsic  should  be  convinced,  that 
you  both  were  my  children  was  an  essential  point  with 
Diganu.  Upon  this  assurance,  he  has  submitted  to  his 
deprivation  with  as  much  fortitude  as  he  can  culti- 
vate. 1  rejoice  in  what  he  is,  and  in  what  I  hope,  we 
shall  be,  at  our  meeting  in  the  invisible  world.  From 
the  proofs  given  to  Rohoirsic,  with  the  exception  of  my 
relation  to  the  Bishop,  1  have  no  doubt  that  he  under 
stands  the  whole  secret"     "Where  did  you  chiefly 


225 

reside — I  asked — since  our  separation  at  the  General 
Hospital?"  Therese  answered — "I  remained  in  Que- 
bec about  four  years,  and  you  were  continually  near 
me  ;  but  you  never  saw  me.  After  that  period,  I  re- 
quested the  Bishop  to  permit  me  to  reside  at  Point  aux 
Trembles  ;  and  there  I  first  began  to  reflect  upon  my- 
self. It  originated  partly  in  the  great  difference  oi 
character  and  temper  between  myself  and  one  of  my 
associates  of  nearly  my  own  age.  I  suspect  that  she 
was  just  such  a  Nun  as  you  would  have  been  :  unsus- 
picious  but  reserved,  and  an  unscrutimzing  devotee,  in 
whom  confidence  could  be  reposed  for  any  thing  good  : 
the  specimen  of  a  Convent  for  show,  necessary  to  be 
kept  for  display  and  ornament.  I  believe  that  she  was 
as  ignorant  of  the  true  nature  of  a  Nunnery  as  a  per- 
son who  has  never  heard  of  monastic  life.  She  was 
remarkably  placid  and  lowly,  and  pursued  the  ordinary 
routine  not  less  mechanically  than  an  automaton.  We 
often  conversed  together,  and  I  was  surprised  at  her 
real  or  affected  innocence  ;  but  as  I  felt  no  inclination 
to  disturb  her  in  her  course,  I  reflected  upon  her  pecu- 
liar qualities,  and  at  length  concluded  that  her  even 
and  useless  life  was  preferable  to  my  own  restless  and 
tormenting  passions.  It  is  now  nearly  four  years  since 
I  began  to  experience  unequivocal  symptoms  of  feeble- 
ness. Confinement  an;*]  seclusion  occasionally  fol- 
lowed ;  and  in  solitude,  my  conscience  thundered  its 
denunciations  against  my  heinous  crimes.  The  first 
effect  was  my  dissatisfaction  with  the  Priests.  I  felt 
that  my  whole  life  was  disgusting,  that  I  was  charge- 
able with  having  done  no  good,  and  that  the  account 
17* 


226 

was  evil,  only  evil,  continually.  My  nervous  depres- 
sions increased.  These  additionally  alarmed 'my  ima- 
gination ;  and  acting  upon  a  temper  naturally  cap- 
tious  and  vehement  and  habituated  to  long  unruliness, 
rendered  me  peevish  and  morose.  The  darkness  of 
my  mind  filled  me  with  disquietude,  and  I  had  no 
comforter.  I  requested  permission  to  return  to  Quebec, 
To  this  the  Bish  p  objected  ;  and  during  a  visit  which 
he  made  me,  he  proposed  that  I  should  remove  to 
Montreal,  with  permission  to  correspond  with  Rohoirsic. 
The  two  years  which  I  passed  in  the  old  Nunnery  in 
Montreal  were  a  period  of  almost  unceasing  pain  both 
in  mind  and  body,  without  any  alleviation.  Scorned, 
detested  and  slighted  like  yourself,  but  without  your 
interior  comforts,  and  agonized  with  variety  of  grief,  it 
was  a  time  of  most  tormenting  fear.  The  Pretres  I 
abhorred,  their  doctrines  I  disbelieved,  their  mum  nery 
I  despised ;  and  their  excommunication  I  scorned, 
With  inexpressible  disquietude  I  was  revolving  mv 
situation,  when  a  sudden  thought  rushed  into  my 
mind  to  have  you  for  my  companion."  1  remarked — 
"  That  impression  upon  your  mind  must  have  proceed- 
ed from  Divine  influence  ;  and  is  another  proof  upon 
what  fleeting  thoughts  and  apparently  trifling  events, 
the  most  important  consequences  depend."  Therese 
answered — "  So  I  have  latterly  considered  it.  That 
impression  was  the  gate  to  the  path  of  the  just  for  me 
to  walk  in  to  the  endless  day.  But  O !  what  did  I 
feel!  shame,  disgrace,  remorse  and  even  horror!  then 
I  desired  your  forgiveness,  hoped  for  your  sympathy, 
longed  for  knowledge,  and  realized  an  indefinable  anx- 


227 

lety  for  something  or  any  thing  which  might  calm  the 
tempestuous  ragings  of  my  soul.  Nothing  upon  earth 
could  make  me  more  debased  ;  and  I  was  solicitous 
to  hear  you  say  that  you  pardoned  my  unnatural 
wickedness  Like  Job,  I  was  full  of  tossings  to  and 
fro ;  yet  the  wish  for  your  company  strengthened,  and  I 
wrote  my  first  letter  to  Rohoirsic,  containing  my  request, 
He  saw  in  the  plan  an  eligible  mode  to  release  you 
fcom  your  vexations,  and  resolved  to  effect  it.  His 
inflexible  obstinacy  alone  conquered.  He  has  acted 
with  so  much  honor,  that  while  the  Jesuits  hate  him 
for  his  acquaintance  with  all  their  detestable  manoeu- 
vres, they  implicitly  confide  in  him  in  reference  to  oui 
affairs.  My  father  having  died  soon  after  my  removal 
to  Montreal,  the  present  Bishop  opposed  the  scheme, 
Rohoirsic  insisted,  and  at  length,  Diganu's  father  rep- 
resented that  it  was  of  no  importance.  '  Therese  and 
Louise — said  the  Priest — are  incorrigible  and  accursed 
heretics.  They  cannot  long  survive;  let  them  live 
together  and  quarrel  till  they  are  dead."  His  unquench- 
able malignity,  through  Divine  compassion,  has  been 
disappointed.  We  are  both  unknown  at  Three  Rivers, 
!  therefore  selected  this  place  as  our  residence.  The 
lawyer  undertook  to  persuade  you  to  accede  to  the  ar- 
rangement ;  and  here  we  are  in  peace.  '  What  shall 
I  render  unto  the  Lord  for  his  benefits  toward  me.  He 
hath  delivered  my  soul  from  death,  mine  eyes  from 
tears,  and  my  feet  from  falling!' — After  a  pause  she 
added — Do  you  remember  any  other  particulars,  Louise, 
which  you  wish  to  have  illustrated  ? '  My  reply  was — 
"  No  ;  except  that  you  will  specify  my  age."     Therese 


226 

iaid — "  You  are  now  nearly  thirty-one  years  old  ;  a 
martyr  to  the  depravity  of  a  Jesuit  and  a  Nun — with 
tearful  emotion  she  presently  added — how  adorable,  my 
Louise,  is  that  goodness  of  God  which  can  pardon  the 
monster  mother  who  has  murdered  such  virtuous  love- 
liness ?"  As  soon  as  1  could  speak,  I  subjoined — "  Let 
this  reflection  and  all  its  connected  topics  henceforth 
sleep  with  your  father  and  my  father  in  grave-like 
oblivion.  We  can  find  ample  subjects  for  discussion 
in  our  present  experience  and  future  anticipations. 
As  the  Apostle  Paul  has  set  us  the  example  ;  'let  us 
forget  those  things  which  are  behind,  *»nd  reach  forth 
unto  those  things  which  are  before."  Your  mother 
very  tenderly  replied-—"  How  kind,  my  dear  Louise  ! 
it  shall  be  as  you  desire.  The  past  henceforth  shall  be 
only  subjects  for  penitence  and  my  private  meditation. 
It  shall  be  mv  endeavor  to  look  to  Jesus,  '  that  I  may 
know  him,  and  the  power  of  his  resurrection,  and  the 
fellowship  of  his  sufferings."  From  that  day.  with  the 
exception  of  yourself  and  Chretien,  no  extraneous  mat- 
ters, my  dear  Diganu.  attracted  our  attention  ;  I  trust 
in  the  best  sense,  '  the  world  was  crucified  unto  us,  and. 
we  unto  the  world.' 

Louise  thus  narrated  the  closing  part  of  Therese's 
earthly  pilgrimage. — I  had  hoped,  as  the  spring  would 
afford  us  opportunity  of  being  in  the  air,  that  Theresa's 
strength  might  be  partially  restored.  We  had  become 
endeared  to  each  other  as  Christian  friends,  and  our 
daily  communion  sanctified  and  cemented  our  attach- 
ment.   But  I  was  disappointed.    She  declined  very  per- 


229 

ceptibly,  until  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  inform  the 
lawyer  of  her  situation.  Rohousic  visited  us,  received 
her  benediction  for  you,  accepted  her  gratitude,  and 
promised  to  fulfil  her  requests.  She  then  seemed  to 
have  discarded  all  connection  with  this  world  except 
myself.  The  revolving  weeks  only  witnessed  her  in- 
creasing" solicitude  that  she  might  not  be  deceived  at 
last ;  that  she  might  not  be  deserted  by  the  Lord  in 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  ;  and  that  she  might 
enjoy  the  humblest  part  in  the  immortal  songs  of  the 
redeemed.  Sometimes  she  appeared  to  dread  the  ap- 
proaching separation  from  the  body;  while  at  others, 
she  would  speak  of  it  with  i  rembling  hope.  I  was  how- 
ever gratified  to  know,  that  her  apprehensions  of  the 
spirituality  of  God's  law  became  more  intense.  Her  pe- 
titions also  were  more  fervid  for  the  acceptable  qualities 
wrought  in  the  soul  by  Divine  grace;  and  her  anxie- 
ties to  be  blessed  with  the  good  hope  that  purifieth  the 
heart  steadily  increased.  Therese  imbibed  with  gree- 
diness all  that  knowledge  which  enlarged  her  views  of 
spiritual  things,  especially  in  their  searching  operations 
Upon  her  own  conscience  ;  and  she  would  often  pro- 
nounce her  emphatic  assent  to  the  Scriptures  and 
other  books. 

A  year  had  nearly  elapsed  from  our  first  interview, 
when  Therese  manifested  symptoms  of  speedy  dissolu- 
tion. She  was  composed  and  equable  ;  and  her  whole 
attention  was  absorbed  by  the  rromentous  question  : 
1  Am  I  in  Christ  Jesus  V  Divine  mercy  exempted  her 
from  unusual  depression  ;  and  her  own  contrition  and. 


230 

humility  precluded  any  string  feelings  of  elevation, 
"  I  feel  myself — our  mother  on  one  occasion  remark- 
ed— in  a  situation  something  like  Peter's  when  he  was 
in  the  sea.  He  saw  his  perilous  and  helpless  state  ; 
he  believed  the  power  and  mercy  of  Jesus ;  and  cried, 
Lord, save  me !  This,  Louise,  is  my  abiding  experience. 
I  behold  my  presumptuous  sins,  my  blood-guiltiness, 
and  my  great  transgressions  ;  and  I  can  only  look  to 
the  infinite  compassions  of  him  '  who  is  able  to  save  to 
the  uttermost,'  through  the  ever  living  Intercessor, 
[therefore  constantly  pray,  'deliver  me,  O  God,  thou 
God  of  my  salvation!'  My  reply  was — "No  doubt, 
Therese,  the  Lord  has  heard  your  voice  and  your  sup- 
plication :  and  1  also  have  often  prayed  for  you,  that 
you  may  experience,  like  Peter,  the  truth  of  the  Lord's 
mediation  ;  and  that  in  the  trying  scene,  your  faith 
may  not  fail."  Of  herself  she  spoke  but  iittle  except  in 
the  form  of  ejaculatory  supplication  ;  but  her  language 
evinced  a  heart  deeply  impressed  with  all  the  living 
realities  of  the  world  to  come.  She  often  uttered  ques- 
tions, the  result  no  doubt  of  her  previous  meditation — 
-Where  shall  I  so?  what  shall  I  be  ?  what  shall  I  do? 
whom  shall  I  see  7  what  shall  I  say  ?  how  shall  1  live? 
am  I  ready  for  the  change  ?'  -  Then  she  would  request 
me  to  read  to  her  those  verses  of  Scripture  which  de- 
scribe the  future  state  in  its  characters,  inhabitants  and 
employments,  with  the  pre-requisites  which  the  Lord 
claims  as  necessary  to  an  admission  into  his  Father's 
house  of  many  mansions.  Sometimes  she  would  speak 
with  tolerable  confidence;  and  after  hearing  a  paragraph 
which  enumerates  the  fruits  of  the  spirit  as  evidences 


231 

of  the  work  of  grace,  she  would  add — •'  well,  I  think, 
I  have  attained  a  little  of  that  quality' — and  when  re 
viewing  the  causes  of  exclusion  from  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  she  would  remark — '  Blessed  be  God  !  I  think 
I  am  cleansed  from  that  stain.'  But  generally  hei 
Gomfort  was  restricted  to  the  hope,  that  she  had  unfeign 
edly  repented  of  her  sins,  and  that  with  sincere  de- 
sire she  was  'looking  for  the  mercy  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  unto  eternal  life." 

For  several  days  before  her  departure,  Therese  con 
tinued  in  much  stupor.     Our  intercourse  was  short  and 
unfrequent  ;  but  her  feeble  expressions  developed  more 
confidence.    On  the  last  day  of  her  life,  the  Superieure 
proposed  that  the  Chaplain  should  be  admitted.     I  ob- 
jected :  as  it  violated  .ill  my  religious  principles  ;  but  ex 
pressed  my  willingness  that  the  Superieure  should  hint 
her  wish  to  the  dying  penitent.     During  her  next  sen 
sible  interval,  the  head  of  the  Convent  proffered  the  at 
tendance  of  the  Priest  to  administer  the  last  offices  of 
his  Church.     With  long  pauses  as  her  feebleness  per 
mitted,   Therese  observed — u  I  am   greatly   indebted 
and  thankful  to  yon,  Madame,  for  all  your  kindness  to 
me  and  Louise,  since  we  have  been  residents  here  ;  but 
this  offer  I  cannot  accept.     I  wish  to  give  you  ray  dy 
ing  testimony.     After  a  long  acquaintance  with   your 
religion,  lam  convinced  that   it  is  a  gross  imposition 
upon  mankind.     It  is  not  less  impious   and  absurd  in 
doctrine,  than  practically  immoral  and  wicked."     The 
Superieure  uttered  an  Ave  Mary,  and  crossed  herself  in 
agitation.     Therese  continued — i:  I  was  educated  in 


232 

your  Church,  have  lived  in  Convents,  and  for  forty  years 
believed  all  that  the  Pretres  taught,  and  did  every  thing 
which  they  ordered  me.  My  alienation  from  them 
and  their  delusions  commenced  in  solitude,  when  I  was 
'madeto  possess  monthsof  vanity, and  wearisome  nights 
were  appointed  unto  me.'  I  know  all  their  private 
infidelity  and  vices,  their  Jesuitical  finesse,  their  mas- 
querading characters,  and  their  public  impostures." 
The  Superieure  again  trembled  arid  crossed  herself, 
"  But  I  had  no  substitute  lor  the  evils  which  my  con- 
science rejected — added  Therese.  She  took  my  hand — 
Louise  has  taught  me  what  I  did  not  know.  She  has 
communicated  to  me  instructions  from  the  true  word 
of  God  ;  and  in  its  light,  I  trust  that  I  have  seen 
the  light.'  I  have  discarded  your  Church.  I  loathe 
all  its  commutations  for  iniquity,  the  claim  to  the 
Divine  prerogative  to  absolve  from  sin  which  the 
Priests  blasphemously  assume,  and  the  power  which 
they  so  iniquitously  exercise  over  the  hearts  and  con- 
sciences of  the  silly  deceived  people,  '  laden  with  sins 
and  taken  captive  by  them  at  their  will' — and  I  abhor 
as  the  source  of  all  evil,  the  ruinous  opinion  which  they 
teach,  that  the  everlasting  condition  of  every  individual 
will  be  determined  according  to  their  appointment. 
The  injuries  which  they  have  done  to  me  and  Louise, 
we  heartily  forgive  ;  and  we  also  pray,  that  the  Lord 
will  have  mercy  upon  you  and  upon  them,  and  upon 
the  deceived  multitudes  whom  as  '  blind  guides,  they 
are  leaning  into  the  ditch.'  I  am  not  now  one  of  their 
disciples.  To  a  Roman  Priest,  I  will  make  no  confes- 
sion.    I  abhor  his  pretended  absolution,  wbicb  he  will 


233 

pronounce  only  for  money  or  for  his  criminal  gratifica- 
tion ;  and  which,  as  they  often  told  me,  depended  upon 
their  intention  ;  but  who  can  be  certain  of  what 
a  Jesuit's  designs,  except  probably  by  the  rule  of  re- 
verse ?  As  to  their  extreme  unction,  I  am  certain  that 
it  is  the  invention  of  Satan  to  smooth  the  entrance  to 
eternal  despair.  I  request  therefore,  that  I  may  be  per- 
mitted to  depart  in  quietude,  and  not  be  discomposed 
in  my  last  moments  by  a  rite  which  Christianity  con- 
demns. I  am  now  in  charity  and  peace  with  all  man- 
kind. My  dear  Louise  !  do  not  permit  the  holy  calm 
within  to  be  ruffled."  I  replied — "  The  Superieure, 
my  dear  mother,  has  only  performed  her  duty ;  I  dis- 
approve ■  of  the  measure  ;  and  I  rejoice  that  through 
the  expression  of  her  wish,  the  Lord  has  enabled  you 
to  declare  your  opinions."  Therese  continued — "  I 
have  now  done  with  the  world,  Louise;  and  you  will 
soon  follow  me.  That  blessed  book  which  opened  my 
blind  eyes  and  healed  my  broken  heart,  will  support 
you  during  your  short  remaining  stay  on  earth  ;  and  I 
trust  that  we  shall  again  meet  in  that  joyful  state,  where 
c  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are  at. 
rest.'  Pray  for  me,  while  I  can  understand  your  peti- 
tions and  join  with  you  in  desire."  1  presumed  that 
the  Superieure  would  have  withdrawn  ;  but  as  she 
had  been  directed  to  witness  the  manner  of  ThereseV 
death,  she  remained  by  the  bed.  I  breathed  forth  ray 
bumble  but  sincere  prayer  for  our  dying  mother,  ant 
for  my  beloved  Diganu.  Her  amen  was  appended  ic/ 
my  supplications,  as  my  emotions  obliged  me  to  pause ; 
especially  when  your  welfare  was  the  subject,  and  a!cr 


234 

when  I  implored  that  she  might  enjoy  the  light  of 
God's  countenance  in  the  parting  moment,  and  be 
carried  by  angels  into  Abraham's  bosom.  The  Su- 
perieure  was  evidently  affected.  To  her  it  was  a 
novelty  incomprehensible,  that  a  heretic  would  pray  to 
God  through  Jesus  Christ.  As  I  arose  from  my  knees, 
Therese  motioned  to  me  to  approach  nearer  to  her ; 
and  having  kissed  me,  with  a  look  of  tender  affection 
she  said — "My  dear  Louise,  1  hope  all  is  well.  I 
trust  that  I  have  found  acceptance  in  Christ.  May 
God  hear  and  answer  your  prayers,  and  may 
you  ever  experience  his  grace,  mercy  and  peace,  until 
we  meet  in  the  joys  of  heaven  !"  Having  presented 
the  Superieure  her  adieu,  she  reclined  her  head  in  a 
doze,  occasionally  interrupted  by  the  motion  of  her  lips, 
which,  from  the  clasping  of  her  hands,  betokened 
prayer.  Her  breath  and  pulse  gradually  became  more 
faint.  After  several  hours,  we  distinctly  perceived  a 
placid  smile  overspreading  her  languid  features  ;  she 
opened  her  eyes,  and  looked  upon  me.  I  took  her 
hand  ;  she  feebly  returned  the  pressure — it  was  her 
last  effort !  presently  my  mother  uttered — "  I  shall, 
Louise,  I  shall" — and  her  spirit  re' jrnedto  the  God  who 
gave  it.  Her  corpse  was  removed  by  Rohoirsic's  di- 
rections ;  and  I  was  consoled  by  hearing,  my  dear 
Brother,  that  you  had  attended  your  Mother's  remain? 
to  "  the  house  appointed  for  all  living." 


DEATH    OF    LOUISE 


Death  springs  to  life  : — 

Though  brief  and  sad  thy  story, 

Thy  years  all  s^pent  in  care  and  gloom. 

Look  up,  look  up  ! 

Eternity  and  glory 

Dawn  through  the  portals  of  the  tomb. 

Louise  thus  finished  her  narrative.  "  My  deas 
brother  !  I  have  been  employed  for  some  time  in  ex 
amining  the  papers  which  record  my  experience  since 
oui  separation ;  and  as  I  know  not  how  soon  the  mes- 
senger may  be  despatched  for  you  to  witness  my  dis- 
solution, while  I  have  a  little  strength,  I  will  supply 
all  that  is  necessary  for  you  fully  to  retrace  my  vary 
ing  exercises. 

"  From  the  first  sight  of  the  cross  on  your  head  so 
exactly  similar  to  my  own,  I  always  felt  as  if  we  were 
naturally  related.  When  I  assented  to  your  proposal 
of  marriage,  my  feelings  revolted,  notwithstanding  all 
my  affection  for  you  ;  and  something  whispered  within 
me,  you  cannot  be  married.  Nothing  but  the  dread  of 
losing  your  protection  and  that  of  Chretien,  and  of 
being  again  separated  and  exposed  to  my  former  dan 
gers,  induced  my  involuntary  acquiescence.  It  is  ina 
possible  to  explain  to  you  the  unceasing   perplexity  in 


236 

which  I  passed  my  nights  and  days.  Every  one  oi 
those  incidents  which  alarmed  us  urged  me  nearer  to 
you  as  the  only  alternative  of  escape  ;  while  every  feel- 
ing of  my  heart  repelled  the  idea  of  a  matrimonial  con- 
nection.  The  only  point  on  v  i.ich  i  never  wavered, 
was  respecting  the  performance  of  the  nuptial  ceremony 
at  Lorette.  A  deep-rooted  prepossession,  for  which  I 
never  could  account  was  fixed  in  my  heart,  that  as  there 
wre  first  became  acquainted,  so  there  it  should  termi 
nate  or  be  sealed  for  ever.  Therese  intimated,  that  a 
delay  in  the  time  and  a  change  in  the  place  would  have 
overcome  all  the  difficulties  ;  but  this  was  an  incorrect 
impression  which  the  deceitful  Pretre  had  given  her; 
for  he  informed  me,  although  it  might  have  involved 
more  trouble,  that  the  result  would  have  been  the  same. 
You  and  Chretien  were  so  closely  and  incessantly 
watched,  that  you  could  not  have  left  Quebec  without 
being  pursued  ;  and  he  also  assured  me  with  the  ut- 
most sang-froid,  that  your  lives  if  necessary  would  have 
been  forfeited,  rather  than  you  should  have  escaped  to 
publish  the  fact  of  my  abduction.  %t  Nothing  is  more 
easy — said  the  Jesmt,  v  th  a  petrifying  look  of  malig 
nant  obduracy,  which  I  shall  ever  recollect — and  they 
would  have  been  remembered  only  with  abhorrence. ,? 
Every  Priest  wTas  instructed  how  to  act  in  case  two 
young  men  named  Digaou  and  Chretien  offered  them- 
selves for  marriage ;  so  that  1  am  now  convinced,  the 
melancholy  affair  was  ordered  in  wisdom  and  mercy. 
Through  your  means  1  v  as  elivered  your  mother 
converted,  and  a  peaceful  seclusion  is  secured  to  me 
as  long  as  1  am  a  sojourner  in  this  vale  of  t^ars 


23? 

To  Rohoirsic,  under  God,  I  am  indebted  for  all  the 
alleviations  of  my  trials  during  my  residence  in  Quebec, 
I  cannot  describe  to  you  his  agitation,  while  I  narrated 
my  doleful  tale.  He  delicately  requested  me  to  evade 
any  facts  which  it  would  pain  me  to  disclose  ;  and 
manifested  great  satisfaction  at  the  recital  of  my  escape  ; 
but  resolutely  pronounced  his  indignation.  Fear  not. 
Louise  ; — he  said,  at  the  close  of  my  narrative — as  far 
as  is  consistent  with  the  personal  safety  of  Diganu  and 
Chretien,  you  shall  have  redress.  They  cannot  alle- 
viate your  sorrow — I  can  ;  and  be  assured,  in  spite  of 
all  the  power,  artifices,  and  malevolence  of  every  Je- 
suit in  Canada,  I  will  be  your  friend  and  protector, 
or  some  other  person  shall  fill  that  office,  as  long  as  you 
live.'  We  separated.  His  promise  was  a  reviving  cor- 
dial ;  the  benefits  of  which  I  have  enjoyed  during  ten 
years,  undiminished  both  in  its  sweets  and  plenteous 
ness, 

"  Notwithstanding  all  the  servile  duties  which  I  wns 
obliged  to  perform,  my  spirits  remained  cheerful.  I 
lived  upon  the  truth  of  the  Divine  word.  I  suppli- 
cated for  light  to  discern  my  spiritual  way ;  and  the 
Hearer  of  prayer  graciously  condescended  to  apportion 
my  ability  to  my  burden.  The  irregularities  which  I 
witnessed  only  increased  my  aversion  to  sin.  The 
pretended  arguments  with  which  my  principles  were 
assailed  affected  my  mind  no  more  than  the  green 
withes  which  bound  Samson's  strength.  The  heartless 
formality  with  which  the  Popish  ceremonies  were  des- 
patched, onlv  confirmed  mv  dislike  of  that  hoUow 
20*" 


238 

imposing  exterior  which  concealed  the  real  corruption 
Even  the  most  vexatious  of  all  their  devices,  the  con 
tumefy  of  the  uninformed  youth  eventually  produced 
no  other  effect,  than  to  keep  me  nearer  the  Lord> 
whom  I  found  to  be  '  my  refuge  and  fortress,  and  whose 
truth  was  my  shield  and  buckler.'  Yet  there  were 
hours  of  overwhelming  dreariness.  I  was  not  formed 
for  solitude,  and  the  little  of  Christianity  which  I  knew, 
often  rendered  the  want  of  communion  with  a  fellow 
pilgrim,  a  subject  of  almost  undevout  murmur.  When 
I  annually  heard  of  you  and  Chretien  ;  of  your  exem 
plary  characters;  of  your  steadfast  adherence  to  youF 
principles,  and  of  your  prayers  on  my  behalf,  I  have 
frequently  ejaculated— '  O  that  I  had  wings  like  a 
dove  !  for  then  would  I  fly  away  and  be  at  rest'  with 
you.  Then  after  a  temporary  reverie,!  would  awake  to 
the  consciousness  of  my  confined  cell,  and  feel  an  over- 
powering restless  aching  void,  which  was  only  assua- 
ged by  the  application  of  the  gospel ;  and  with  all 
solicitude  to  realize  its  force,  I  would  utter — 'I  will 
say  unto  God,  my  rock,  why  hast  ttiGu  forgotten  me  ? 
why  go  I  mourning  because  of  the  oppression  of  the 
enemy  7  why  art  thou  cast  down,  O  my  soul  ?  and 
why  art  thou  disquieted  within  me  1  Hope  thou  in  God; 
for  I  shall  yet  praise  him,  who  is  the  health  of  my 
countenance  and  my  God."  This  calmed  the  tempest; 
and  although  I  counted  the  interval  to  the  New  Year's 
day  with  impatience  ;  yet  when  the  transient  interview 
with  the  lawyer  had  terminated,  it  generally  agitated 
my  heart  for  some  days  after ;  and  it  was  the  most 
difficult  portion  of  all  the  evangelical  schooling  which 


239 

I  experienced,  to  acquiesce  with  the  Lord's  will.     Di 
vine  grace,  however,  at  length  enabled  me  to  say,  and 
I  think  in  the  same  resigned  temper  with  which  David 
addressed  Zadok ;  '  here  am  J,  let  him  do  to  me  as 
seemeth  good  unto  him.'     I  now  understand  the  cause 
of  this  gospel  discipline.     The  Lord   was  gradually 
preparing  my  heart  for  the  duties  of  that  grateful  office 
which  I  was  destined  to  execute.     Had  I  known  the 
name  of  my  proposed  associate,  it  is  probable  that  I  should 
have  refused  all  solicitation  ;  but  I  had  so  long  e«xpe 
rienced  Rohoirsic's  fidelity,  that  his  word  was  law  with 
me.    Then  first  I  understood  that  Christian  obligation, 
to  do  good  for  its  own  sake.     Thanks  be  to  God  !  it 
was  effected  ;  and  Lean  truly  say,  that  in  giving,  I  re- 
ceived.    Truly  I  was  a  novice  in  almost  every  thing', 
and  confinement  in  the  Nunnery  had  not  instructed 
me.     It  was  a  mercy,  therefore,  that  I  witnessed  your 
Mother's  last  year.     Death  and  sickness,  except  in  my 
own  experienced  debility,  I  had  never  seen  ;  for  the 
Nuns  at  Quebec  excluded  me  from  all  intercourse,  as 
much  as  if  I  had  been  infected  with  the  plague.     At 
Three  Rivers  I  very  impressively  learnt  how  mortality 
vanisheth  away.     In  a  most  affecting  example,  I  saw 
how  the  Lord  can  adapt  his  mercy.     Anxiously  I  be 
held  every  step  in  the  pathway  of  righteousness  trod- 
den by   Therese,  from   the  city  of  destruction  to  the 
river  of  death,  until  grace  triumphed  in  glory .     Du ring 
this  whole  scene,  I  was  also  deeply  convinced  of  my 
own  increasing  frailty  ;  but  I  had  a  companion.     Her 
strong  bursts  of  penitential  anguish  enlivened  my  own 
ftmCrite  feelings.    Her  occasional  vehemence  to  take 


240 

ihe  kingdom  of  heaven  by  force  quickened  my  own 
sincere  endeavors.  Her  aspirations  of  praise  inspired 
my  gratitude  ;  and  her  closely  scrutinizing  application 
of  the  Divine  oracles,  taught  "me  the  genuine  charac- 
ters of  that  spiritual  mindedness  which  is  life  and  peace. 
The  lesson  has  been  most  salutary.  Of  the  soul's  se- 
paration from  the  body,  my  ideas  were  vague,  incohe- 
rent and  without  sensibility;  now  they  are  precise,  de- 
terminate, and  animating.  I  have  marked  a  penitent 
sinner's  change ;  an  emaciated  Mother's  conversion 
to  God ;  and  a  humble,  cautious,  and  apprehensive 
believer,  casting  her  hope  as  a  sure  and  steadfast 
1  anchor  within  the  veil,  whither  the  Forerunner  for  us 
is  entered  ;'  and  I  can  retrace  this  whole  Christian 
landscape  of  the  narrow  road,  with  all  that  I  can  in- 
clude in  the  most  joyful  interpretation  of  the  patient 
Job's  cheerfully  resigned  and  peacefully  confident  lan- 
guage. It  expresses  your  Louise's  feelings  and  solid 
tudes:  'all  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will  I  wait 
till  my  change  come.' 


al  was  removed  from  Three  Rivers  almost  immedi- 
ately after  the  death  of  Therese.  Rohoirsic  visited  me, 
and  stated  that  if  I  approved,  I  might  return  to  Que- 
bec to  reside  in  private  lodgings  ;  and  that  he  had 
agreed  with  Diganu's  Father,  that  you,  my  brother, 
should  not  be  apprized  of  the  fact  until  our  final  inter- 
view, when  I  should  be  on  the  threshhold  of  eternity. 
This  delighted  me,  and  the  lawyer  provided  apart- 
ments  where  almost  daily  I  have  seen  you  and  Chretien, 


241 

1  could  have  informed  you  of  nothing  which  these 
papers  will  not  communicate.  In  my  feeble  condition, 
frequent  personal  intercourse  would  only  have  agitated 
our  feelings  unnecessarily,  and  opened  your  wounds 
afresh  without  any  balm  to  assuage  the  pain.  It  has 
been  a  cordial  to  my  spirits  to  behold  you,  and  to  pray 
for  my  brother  and  his  friend  as  you  have  passed  along 
the  street,  unconscious  that  your  Louise  was  so  near 
you.  Often  have  I  rejoiced  to  hear  your  names  asso- 
ciated with  every  thing  good.  Always  have  I  felt  de- 
lighted in  the  assurance  that  our  mutual  requests  con- 
stantly ascend  to  the  throne  of  grace  ;  and  that  we 
shall  meet  in  "  the  New  Jerusalem,  around  the  throne  ot 
God  and  of  the  Lamb,  with  his  name  in  our  foreheads; 
there  to  see  his  face,  and  serve  him  day  and  night  in 
his  temple." 


"  My  increasing  debility  urges  me  to  seal  the  packet 
of  manuscripts  intended  for  your  perusal.  When  you 
read  these  papers,  my  dear  Diganu,  you  will  rejoice  as 
your  Louise  has  rejoiced,  and  you  will  weep  with  those 
who  have  wept.  The  anticipation  of  Paradise  ha.c 
often  supported  me  amid  my  severest  earthly  trials  ; 
and  now  in  the  nearing  approach  of  dissolution^  the 
prospective  reunion  with  our  Mother  and  you  and 
Chretien,  among  '  the  great  multitude  whom  no  man 
can  number,  to  stand  before  the  throne  and  before  the 
Lamb,  and  sing  salvation  to  our  God,"  so  enraptures 
my  heart,  ihat  it.  leaves  me  nothing  to  desire,  but  to  be 
'  clothed  upon  with  our  house   which  is  from  heaven, 


242 

ihat  mortality  might  be  swallowed  up  of  life :  and 
being  accepted,  that  we  may  be  present  with  the  Lord!' 
Amen. 

"  Accept,  my  beloved  Brother,  the  undying  love,  and 
the  Christian  benediction  of  your  unchanged  and  faith- 
fully affectionate  sister. 

Louise. 


POSTCRIPT    BY    DIGANU. 

;i  At  the  close  of  the  year  17 — Ruhoirsic  visited  us 
He  mentioned  his  agreement  with  the  Pretre,  that  in 
the  last  period  of  her  life,  we  should  be  admitted  to  the 
presence  of  Louise  ;  made  us  acquainted  with  her  remo- 
val to  Quebec,  and  nlso  stated  that  she  had  frequently 
seen  us.  'I  came  to  apprize  you  of  these  circumstan- 
ces— said  our  friend — and  also  to  inform  you  that  she 
is  now  reduced  so  low,  that  you  may  prepare  your 
minds  for  the  invitation  to  the  closing  scene  of  her  mor- 
tal existence." 

After  several  days  Rohoirsic  again  appeared,  and 
said — "Louise  has  been  much  affected  with  the  plea- 
sing anticipation  of  meeting  you.  You  will  find  her 
extremely  altered  in  appearance,  so  that  you  would  not 
recognize  her,  except  by  her  voice,  and  the  cross.  You 
are  nearly  the  same, — she  says — as  she  identified  you 
both  in  the  street,  when  you  were  first  noticed  by  her. 
Louise  is  at  the  portal  of  eternity ;  perfectly  conscious,  in 
all  her  mental  vigor  ;  and  although  she  can  speak  but 


243 

little,  she  is  anxious  to  present  you  her  last  adieu.'  He 
retired  ;  and  after  a  short  interval  returned.  '  Come — 
said  our  friend — Louise  is  near  death,  but  fully  sensible, 
and  desirous  to  receive  you.' 

Who  can  conceive  what  [  felt,  when  on  entering  the 
room, we  saw  instead  of  the  once  blooming  and  grace- 
lul  Louise,  a  pale  skeleton  ?  She  presented  her  hand— 
1  Let  me  look  at  your  head' — even  in  its  feebleness,  it 
was  her  own  delightful,  well-remembered  voice.  '  It 
is  Diganu' — she  said  ;  and  as  she  turned  back  her 
hair  with  her  cold  hand,  I  beheld  the  cross — '  My 
Louise  !'  I  could  utter  no  more.  We  exchanged  our 
tenderest  salutation.  After  a  short  silence,  she  beck- 
oned to  Chretien  who  also  received  the  kiss  of  our  dy- 
ing protegee.  When  we  had  partially  recovered  our 
feelings,  she  addressed  me  with  great  difficulty.  '  My 
Brother,  here  is  a  packet  which  1  wished  to  deliver  into 
your  own  hands — she  gave  me  Hie  narrative  of  her  ex- 
perience— our  friend  will  fulfil  all  my  directions.'  She 
then  presented  her  thanks  to  Rohoirsic  for  all  his  cart 
and  kindness,  and  prayed  that  the  Lord  would  reward 
him  a  hundred  fold  ;  and  that  he  might  inherit  ever- 
lasting life.  As  Chretien  received  her  testimonial  of 
affection,  he  thanked  God  that  he  w-as  permitted  to 
behold  her  in  peace.  !  Yes,  Chretien — she  replied — 
your  friend  has  no  doubt  of  her  eternal  safety.' 
She  then  addressed  me  "I  sent  for  you,  my  beloved 
Brother,  that  we  might  once  more  unite  our  devotion? 
on  earth.  Pray  for  me  and  for  yourselves;  and  your 
Louise  will  join  in  pleading  with  God  on  your  behalf 


244 

i  attempted  to  comply.  All  I  remember  is  this  ;  that 
what  was  defective  in  language  and  manner  was  sup- 
plied by  feeling  and  sincerity.  At  the  end  of  my  pray- 
er, she  uttered  her  amen  ;  and  after  I  had  resumed  my 
station  by  her,  she  faintly  said — '  All  my  worldly  de- 
sires and  connections  now  are  ended.  God  bless  you, 
my  Brother  !'  she  sunk  into  forget  full!  ess,  while  re- 
clining on  my  shoulder,  but  after  some  time  ;  Louise 
again  opened  her  languid  eyes,  and  gave  me  an  ex- 
pressive glance*;  then  as  she  presently  appeared  to  be 
looking  stedfastly  upwards,  my  sister  whispered  to  me 
— '  Diganu,  I  see  it.  Lord  Tesus  !  I  come.'— Her 
eyes  closed  ;  and  she  entered  the  rest  that  remaineth 
to  the  people  of  God.  We  interred  Louise  by  the  side 
of  her  mother ;  and  there  I  expect  to  repose,  in  certain 
hope  of  the  resurrection  of  the  just. 

Diganu- 


V, 


* 


' 


